


Wary Of Love

by Mizz_Monet (orphan_account)



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom Kurt Hummel, Dom Santana, Dom/sub, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Gay Bashing, Homophobic Language, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Mention of Jeff and Nick, Mutual Pining, Not Rachel Friendly, Panic Attacks, Rachel is a bad dom, Racist Language, Slow Burn, Sub Blaine Anderson, Sub Brittany, Sub Quinn, Switch Mercedes, Switch Sam, elliott 'starchild' gilbert, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mizz_Monet
Summary: Santana is court ordered to find and/or buy a new sub due of her outbursts caused by unattended dom hormones. Kurt reluctantly agrees to go with her for support and ends up witnessing a helpless sub about to be killed. He buys him on a whim, but the sub doesn't trust or believe that Kurt doesn't want to use him.Can Kurt get his new sub to open up to him?Side note: This is my first fanfic. Sorry for any confusion or mistakes in grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Sam Evans/Mercedes Jones, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 75
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... this is my first fanfic. I don't really love it, but I'm kinda drunk and I feel like posting the first chapter at least. Probably more later, though I make no promises.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Kurt, please. You know I hate going to those places alone. And you also know I never beg, but I’m willing to, for this.” Santana pleaded as she followed Kurt across the _Bed Bath & Beyond _ parking lot.

Kurt sighed in frustration as he opened his car’s trunk. “No, ‘Tana. I hate those places just as much, if not more than you do. I can’t go. Ask Rachel or something.”

Santana growled angrily and glared at the lithe teen. “We both know how Rachel feels about the Slave Market, and the slaves. She isn’t like you, or anyone for that matter, she… she’s awful.”

Kurt chanced a glance at his friend. She was chewing on her red nails in uneasiness. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a tight-looking ponytail.

It reminded Kurt of their high school days, when she was a Cheerio.

“Oh, fine,” Kurt huffed. “But do _not_ leave me alone. Okay?” Santana snapped out of her daze and nodded furiously. “Thank you. Really, I mean it, Kurt. Thank you.” Kurt smiled softly at her. The latina was often careless, but Kurt could tell she had put a lot of thought into this. She needed a sub. And she would take immense care of her, despite her doubts.

“So, when are we doing this?” Kurt asked. Santana took her nails out of her mouth and drummed them on Kurt’s black Navigator. “Are you free tomorrow?” Kurt contemplated his plans for a moment before taking out his phone. Checking his calendar to make sure he was in fact free, he nodded. “Great, so tomorrow?” He proposed, wanting to clarify.

Sanatana winked before cheekily smirking. “I’ll pick you up at eight, gorgeous.” Kurt merely rolled his eyes. “Wow,” he said flatly. “Eight am seems a little early for a date. I think we’re moving too fast.” His voice was overflowing with sarcasm and the two burst out laughing.

“See you later, ‘Tana.” He finally answered, thinking he was going to get home to his, albeit empty, apartment and unload his groceries. Santana was about to respond when a shrill voice cut through the lot.

“Kurt!” Kurt turned to face the unprecedented squawk.

“Rachel?”

The short brunette nodded as she made his way over to him. “Why are you here?” He demanded, irritated already.

Rachel flinched at the amount of power in his voice. “I was going to ask if I could join you at the Slave Market. I couldn't help but overhear that first bit of your conversation. But I couldn't stay and chat because I had to go in and just thought I’d catch up with you outside.” She replied, all in one breath.

Kurt only scowled.

“I’m looking for a new toy. Preferably a boy this time.”

Santana glared daggers at her from beside Kurt.

_If looks could kill._ He thought grimly.

“You knew the law, Rachel, and you broke it. Now you aren’t legally allowed to buy any more slaves,” Santana barked.

“Santana,” Kurt cautioned her, but she continued anyway, clearly infuriated at the abusive, narcissistic Dom.

“You claimed Quinn without her permission, and you still got away with it. Be happy you’re not in jail, where you should be.” Rachel’s eyes were narrowed and she stuttered for a comeback. “Wel...I-I...Fuck you, Santana! I hope your sub hates you, and that she doesn’t even fucking obey!”

Santana made a move to grab her, but Kurt stopped her. He gripped tightly onto her wrist. “Hey!” Santana was fuming. “Don’t waste your time on her. She’ll get what’s coming to her soon enough. Come on, let's go.” Santana reluctantly agreed, but not before she screamed across the lot, over the innocent bystanders and tired workers: “I hope you fucking-”

“Santana!” Kurt yelled as loud as his lungs could manage, yet she still didn’t stop. After a full minute of her yelling, Kurt dragged her away and stuffed her into his car. “What?” She asked innocently. “Did you bring your car?” Santana crossed her arms. ”I walked. So… take me home, Porcelain.”

Kurt smiled. “Gladly.”

<><><>

Kurt slammed his arm on his wailing alarm clock and dragged himself out of bed. “Ugh,” he grumbled. “I despise mornings.” He walked to the bathroom and started his daily moisturizing routine.

He had toned it down from high school due to budget cuts from the Vogue office. Now he only had a few lotions and creams. They had been lagging behind because of the rival magazine, _Saxlo_.

Saxlo was the newest fashion magazine that had incredible (and some questionable) designs of young college students who wanted to get their start. Oftentimes, famous designers even gave them their big break (and incredibly large amounts of money) for their work.

Kurt had actually thought it was a generous and considerate, he only wished he could have had that chance when he was in NYADA. He wanted to part away from Vogue. He had been there for four years after his internship, when he graduated from NYADA.

Kurt snapped out of his daydreams, then walked to his closet. He shuffled through his dresser drawers and sighed. “Fuck. It’s still at the dry-cleaner’s.” He hung his head, feeling defeated. Kurt eventually decided to wear something else. It was a reluctant choice, but by the end he felt proud of it.

He had a leaf print cotton silk shirt by Burberry with maple leaves on it, as well as tight, brown jeans paired with a lighter brown belt. [His outfit was amazing.](https://uploads.wornontv.net/2015/01/kurts-maple-leaf-shirt.jpg) It was casual enough to be comfortable and fashionable enough to insinuate he was of a higher class than he honestly was.

Not that he was ashamed of anything. On the contrary, he was proud of his father, as well as his own achievements. He fought hard against his hometown bullies and made it to New York. He was a successful designer in the city of his dreams.

There was just one thing he lacked. A sub.

Kurt even had to go to shady clubs just to control his hormones. But he _refused_ to buy a slave, he hated the idea of forcing somebody to kneel for him, no matter the urges he had.

Slave laws were something Kurt was passionate about. He felt disgusted at the prospect of selling a human being just because of something that nobody, even Doms, can control.

These days slaves are being treated better. People, including Doms, are starting to stand up and fight for those who can’t, but the government still allows for people to pay with the subs in their family. Most families who can’t afford to pay their taxes sell their submissive daughters or sons. Kurt was almost sold, when his father was in the hospital because of his heart attack scare. But he was a Dom, so they couldn’t take him away.

Kurt shook himself out of his depressing thoughts once more. He picked up his phone, hoping to call Santana when he heard the infernal honking of Santana’s car.

It was a [ Ruby Red Ford Fusion ](https://blogmedia.dealerfire.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/275/2018/08/2019-Ford-Fusion-Ruby-Red-Exterior-Color_o.jpg) from this year’s new lineup. Kurt and the other former Glee club members had pitched in and gotten it for her on her twenty-first birthday.

“Porcelain! Come on!” She screeched from the open car window.

Kurt grabbed his messenger bag and rushed out.

“I’m coming, ‘Tana,” he yelled, much to his neighbors' dislike. “Now young man,” the elderly lady started. “Do be quieter, please.” Kurt chuckled at her playful scolding, she reminded him of his grandmother. “Sorry, Ms. Susie,” he apologized as Santana honked yet again. “I have to go, but have a good day.” The greying haired woman laughed and waved him to go. “Go. Shoo. Enjoy your youth.” Kurt waved back respectfully. “Bye, Ms. Susie.”

Kurt made his way in the latina’s messy car. “Geez, ‘Tana. Do you ever clean here? It's disgusting.” Santana glared at him. “Listen, _Tickle-Me-Doughface_ ,” She snarled, clearly trying to hide that she was anxious about buying a sub.

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to. Remember? You were at the trial, you know.” 

Though Santana had felt the same way about buying a sub as Kurt did, she was ordered to buy a sub by a judge. The judge had declared her unattended hormones ‘irrational’ and ‘reckless’. She had been getting physical during arguments and even slapped a waitress for bringing her a pink steak, despite the fact that she had ordered it rare. So, the judge told her to find and/or buy a sub before the end of the month or else she’d be arrested. 

“I know,” Kurt breathed out. He held up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry. I just… really hate these things.” Santana nodded solemnly in silent agreement and started their wayward journey.

<><><>

Well, this is it,” Santana announced as she pulled into the market’s parking lot. “Pretty clean for a slave market,” Kurt observed. Santana snorted. It was silent for a beat, then she gaped as a horrified expression marked her face.

A tall man dragging a slave by a leash came out of the large building. Kurt and Santana mutually shuddered at the sight of the female sub. She was mostly naked, aside from a ball-gag, butt-plug, duct tape over her mouth, and a collar that was connected to the leash she was being led with.

“Oh Dios mío.” He heard Santana mutter. “Is _that_ really what some Doms do? Without their sub’s consent?”

Kurt generally believed the _To Each His Own_ motto, but this was humiliating. Degrading and demeaning beyond all understanding of the words. She was a person, a human being. But here she was, being paraded around by this cocky bastard.

“I guess we just go in.” Kurt heaved a heavy sigh and stepped out of the car. He gave his friend enough time to take a few breaths before following. He knew how worried she was about all of this.

“You’re right. Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled, completely dejected.

Kurt let her go ahead of him before following. He gingerly stepped into the big gym and looked around. It wouldn’t take long to find out what was going on here, if you didn’t know already.

Slaves were everywhere.

In cages. On show. Being whipped. Tried out, like these Doms were buying a new car instead of a real person.

Kurt turned to the nearest trash can and vomited. The little bit of breakfast he had had earlier was gone at the mere sight of this.

How could he help Santana if he couldn’t even bear the sight of it all?

Santana.

He twisted around suddenly, trying to locate his friend. Instead he only helped himself in throwing up even more. He felt a soft hand on his back. Santana was rubbing his back in small circles and wiping her lips. She had most likely thrown up too.

He threw up until he was dry-heaving and Santana was running across the slave shows to get him some desperately needed water. She came back and handed him a bottle of water. “Here,” she offered. “Drink this. We’ve lost a lot of fluids.” Kurt watched as she took a few chugs from her bottle. He mimicked her actions and did the same.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked. She shrugged pathetically. “Better than them. You?” Kurt gave a little half-nod, but gaze was set on a man behind her. Santana noticed and turned around cautiously, ready for anything.

“Why hello there young man.” A stranger stuck his gloved hand out for Kurt, wholly ignoring Santana. “Would you be interested in buying this beautiful, blonde sub?”

Kurt looked at the girl crawling behind the strange man. She had lightening blonde hair and deep blue eyes. As far as women go, she was certainly alluring. And Santana seemed to agree by the possessive look that suddenly overtook her features. Her eyes were wide and flurried, she looked as though she had an urge to claim her. Kurt knew what it looked like from when Rachel claimed his former brother, Finn. Though he also knew that Santana wouldn’t do that without the sub’s go-ahead, unlike the short brunette would.

“I-” Kurt stuttered, but Santana knew what she wanted. And how to get it. She grew up in Lima Heights Adjacent, she knew how to play people and make them feel like shit about it.

“I’m so sorry, sir, but this is my brother,” she lied, and put a hand to the side of her mouth to whisper to him. The man leaned down to hear her better, clearly intrigued. “He’s _gay_.”

The man’s eyes shot back up to Kurt. “Yeah,” He observed Kurt for a second longer, then muttered under his breath. “I don’t know why I keep doing this. He even _looks_ gay, how did I not see it before?”

Kurt’s eyebrows raised up and he gave Santana a pointed look. _‘Really?’_ He mouthed to her. Santana rolled her eyes and pointed to the slave who was watching their interaction with a confused smile of sorts.

The man took his hand back and dropped it to his side. He then looked them both up and down. Kurt stood taller against the dark staring, he didn’t want to back down to a man who was selling people.

“Well…” He started again, this time sticking his hand out to Santana. “Would you, lovely lady,” He winked. “-like to buy this gorgeous slave?” Kurt saw a flicker of rage on Santana’s face, but it was soon replaced with a smirk. She hated him, Kurt could tell that much. But she would still fake it to help this poor girl.

Kurt felt even more proud to be her friend than before.

“Of course. How much?” She asked, bolder than Kurt felt he could be.

The man looked at her and back at the slave. “$10,000. She’s still untouched, so that seems like a fair price.” Santana kept her cool, but Kurt’s mouth dropped so low he could swear it touched the ground.

“$5,000,” she recited, as if she had done this a million times before. But with Santana, you never really knew. “$8,000,” he countered. “$5,000,” she said again. The man was getting irritated now, but dropped the price once more. “$7,800.” Santana pretended to think it over for a minute. Or at least, Kurt thought she was pretending, he knew she didn’t have that kind of money to spare.

“$5,500.”

“$7,000.”

“$6,000.”

“$6,500.”

“Deal,” Santana said, smirking happily at her cleverness. Kurt stood, mouth agape. She had managed to buy a slave for little more than half the original price. She tried to give him the money and grab the leash, but the man put a hand up.

“No, don’t you know how this works?”

Santana shook her head no. “Jesus,” he breathed. “How old _are_ you two?”

Before Kurt could even pick his mouth off the floor, Santana had swiped both his and her id, flashing them to the seller. “I’m 24, he’s 26. We’ve both had sex, but never bought a slave. And only I've ever actually claimed anyone. Once. We’re also both very gay.”

The man ran his hands through his hair. He was average height and scrawny, clearly the brains and not the brawn of these operations. Well, maybe not the brains either considering his negotiating skills. Kurt thought to himself.

“Look, lady,” this time all the charm was gone and replaced by irritation. “You have to come with me to get her papers.”

_“Papers?”_ Santana questioned incredulously. “She’s not a dog at the adoption center, she is _my_ sub.” The slave looked up at her with wide, scared eyes at her sudden outburst of possessiveness. Santana saw and knelt down to be eye level with her. “Oh, sweetie. I’m not mad at you. Don’t worry, once we get this sorted you’ll be safe. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

If the sub wasn’t as new and untouched as the man said, she wouldn’t have been so calm with a Dom she didn’t know. Kurt and Santana both knew this. The two girls had their eyes locked on each other and Santana slowly (in case she wanted to pull away) reached her hand out to stroke over her hair. The blonde sub leaned into the touch, preening at her gentleness while Santana smiled softly.

Kurt watched with a longing he didn’t know he had.

He wanted somebody painfully. He wanted what Mercedes had with Sam in their home in Los Angeles, what Santana obviously felt for this girl she didn’t even know. He wanted to feel beautiful. Confident. _Loved._

He wanted somebody to come home to at night, and someone to wake up with his arms around, or vice versa. He wanted to have the reassurance that somewhere, there was somebody who wanted him like he wanted them. He wanted to know that maybe somebody could learn to love him dominating them, to yearn for it despite his effeminate looks. He longed for it with everything he had.

And as he watched the two girls in front of him, he felt his heart ache more than ever before.


	2. Chapter Two

“Kurt,” Santana summoned him from her kneeling position, her eyes never leaving the cornflower blue of the slave’s. “Yes?” He answered.

“I have to go get her papers. Do you want to wait here?”

“Uh,” Kurt sputtered. “Yeah, yeah I guess.”

“Great.” Santana smiled up at him.

“Should I just follow you?” She asked the seller. He nodded and pulled the slave by her collar rather roughly and she briefly choked.

“Hey!” Santana shrieked. The man shifted his gaze from between her and Kurt, thoroughly confused. “What? What’s wrong now?” He said, exasperated.

Kurt stood, awkwardly shuffling his feet and trying to give them their privacy, even in such a public setting as this.

Santana huffed. “Don’t be so harsh. Here,” she demanded, and held out her hand. “Give it to me.” The man looked to Kurt, who only shrugged. He sighed and handed her the low-quality leash. “You can stand up sweetie.” Santana told the crawling blonde.

The slave ogled the temperamental woman, before looking to her former captor. “Can I, Sir?” Kurt watched Santana’s jaw clench even as the man nodded. “Listen, sweetie. You don’t have to call him sir anymore, alright?" Santana told her, straining to keep her voice calm.

The blonde bobbed her head in affirmation. Santana was quiet for a minute, pondering something private to only her and her sub.

“What...What’s your name?”

The blonde looked caught off guard, as if she thought she might be being ambushed. She stammered her response. “Um...Your new sub? No, slave. I’m sorry, sometimes I get a little confused. Those tests in the facility were hard.”

Santana had a small, sad frown on her face. “No, um...Your name. Like the one you were born with.” The slave bowed her head slightly in shame. “I’m sorry, miss. My name is Brittany.”

Santana lifted her head delicately with two fingers. “It’s okay, Brittany. And you don’t have to call me miss or mistress or anything like that, alright? You can call me Santana, or whatever you’re most comfortable with. He,” She gestured to Kurt with a bob of her head. “-Even calls me ‘Tana. Do you understand?”

Brittany smiled. “Yes, Miss Santana.”

Santana grinned and turned to Kurt. “You good here by yourself?”

“Yeah, go on without me," He told her. "I’m going to go see if they have anything to dampen the angry Dom hormones.” Kurt said, hoping he would seem nonchalant.

Santana frowned. “Again?” She asked.

Kurt fidgeted uncomfortably. “You know I don’t like one night stands. I’m not going to go do something that should be intimate with someone who I can’t even be sure is telling me their real name.” Santana made a small noise of agreement and bounced off, Brittany happily following behind her.

“I…” Kurt trailed off to no one but himself, unsure of what to do in a place like this. He looked around and decided to wander off for the pills to dampen his more aggressive Dom side.

To be honest, he still went to clubs for Doms and subs, he just really hated it.

He hated the feeling he got when he woke up to find that he was alone after something that should’ve been special. He was disgusted when his...associate...left his apartment because he thought that that was what Kurt wanted. As if Kurt would throw them out or hurt them just for sleeping next to him. Not even with him, but next to him.

Kurt gazed around, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion from his lack of sleep due to working on new designs all night for this month’s Vogue issue.

He sat down on an empty pullout chair, similar to the ones in the old Glee club room.

_ Dammit. _ He thought to himself.  _ What’s with all the nostalgia lately. Get yourself in gear, Hummel. Quit reminiscing about your past and think about the now. _

He held his head in his hands and started to doze off.

<><><>

Kurt woke about an hour later to hear pained whimpers coming from under the bleachers of the gym building.

“Ugh, it’s disgusting. I can’t believe it hasn’t died yet.” A deep voice said sinisterly, followed by a cruel chuckle. “Think we should put it out of misery?”

Kurt could hear the vile grin in his voice. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and listened closer. There was a sound of distress coming from the voice of the one who was previously whimpering.

“Get the  [ .38 ](https://image.sportsmansguide.com/adimgs/l/6/641461m2_ts.jpg) and we’ll kill it.”

Kurt shot up from the chair and marched straight to where the voices were coming from. A rash decision, he knew, but what were the voices going to kill? You couldn’t be too sure in a place like this.

“Hey,” he shouted. The two very beefy men turned towards him. They kind of reminded Kurt of his former bullies, Karofsky and Azimio.

He looked between them to see where the whimpering was coming from. When he saw he had to suppress the urge to just gasp and run away.

There, laid pathetically on the ground, was a slave. The most damaged looking one Kurt had ever seen. And oh , how that had to hurt. The boy was sickly pale, sweaty and shivering at the same time, while black and blue bruises littered his skin like a delicate art pattern.

He whimpered and tried to bring himself up, only to be knocked down again by the bigger man kicking him in the stomach.

“STOP THAT!” Kurt screamed at them with all the power he could. “HE’S HURT!”

“Oh yeah, fairy? What are you going to do about it? He’s useless, probably even has aids or something like the rest of you faggots.” He laughed at Kurt and crossed his arms. His bigger friend said nothing, just walked closer to Kurt, cracking his knuckles and making ridiculous noises doing it.

The smaller man seemed to notice his staring and chuckled. “He don’t talk, so don’t even try it.”

Kurt’s eyebrows raised in shock, the man merely chuckled some more. Never laughed or smiled, just chuckled in a foul way that made the hair on the back of Kurt’s neck stand up.

“Got his tongue cut out during one of our gang fights. Some nigger took his own knife and cut it out while he was drugged up. Ain’t that right, Bobby?” Kurt glanced as  _ Bobby _ just gruffed and nodded.

The boy behind them was passed out on the ground. Kurt was risking his whole plan, but he needed to know that the poor sub was still alive.

“Hey! Wake up! Get up! Go!” The boy raised his head and Kurt felt his heart break at the sight. He had tear stains trailing down from his wide, sad eyes, as well as bruises and blood from the marks and cuts all over his face. Kurt had nothing left to do, the poor boy was going to die if he didn’t figure out a way to help him.

“Kurt!”

He heard the familiar shout and turned towards it.

“Santana!” He yelled, already much more relieved. “Kurt, get away from them!” He noticed two police officers running fast behind her. “They’re illegal sellers! Get away!”

Kurt ran to them and hugged Santana.

The female officer put her gun up and ordered the two men to put their hands up. They obeyed grudgingly. The male officer put them in cuffs and dragged them to the cruiser. He pushed them both in roughly.

The female officer then came up to them, she had corresponding looks with the male which led Kurt to believe they were siblings. They looked to be Irish as they both had wavy, red hair and freckles dotted upon their pale complexions. Plus their eyes were both olive green and bright from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

She asked them both some questions and then pulled Kurt aside.

“Is that your slave?” She pointed to the boy’s bruised body on the stretcher.

“No, ma’am,” he replied. She frowned. “Are you sure?” Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure. But if I may ask,” She bobbed her head, inclining for him to go on. “Why? Doesn’t he have an owner? Or at least papers or something?” The officer’s frown only deepened. “You did hear your friend say they were illegal sellers, right?”

“Yes…”

“He doesn’t have any papers since he was technically illegal himself. He could be pure or he could have been passed around from person to person. We believe it to be the letter considering his physical as well as mental symptoms. He also has Chlamydia.”

“Good lord.” Kurt muttered, but she went on.

“He’ll have to be put down.”

_ “Excuse me!?” _ He exclaimed in shock.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s the law. Since he has an STD and no owner, plus he is unhealthy and weak--”

“But that’s not his fault, he was being hurt! And I didn’t witness it, but he was most likely raped too!”

“I’m truly sorry, sir. I hate these laws, it’s actually the reason I became an officer of the law, to change it.”

Kurt nibbled his lower lip, lost in thought. She continued.

“Not many people are willing to buy a slave that’s that close to death. He’ll be put down unless someone comes forward by tomorrow.”

Kurt listened intently. He had a plan.

<><><>

“Santana!” Kurt yelled for his friend across the large gym.

Brittany came bouncing up to him cheerfully. “Miss Santana said to tell you that she had to talk to one of the officers. She’s over there,” She pointed to Santana talking with the male police officer. Kurt let out a breath of relief. “She also wants me to stick with you for safety.” Kurt smiled at her, “That’s good, Brittany. Thank you.”

As he looked at her closer he noticed she was wearing the extra shirt Santana always kept in her car.  [ A sherbert tiger pullover by Wildfox. ](https://uploads.wornontv.net/2015/02/britannys-ombre-tiger-sweater.jpg) It had become a habit for both of them to always have an extra pair of clothes because of their daily high-school slushies. Said rule was only reinforced after one-too-many coffee-spills on their way to or from work in New York.

“Would you like to go wait for her with me?” He offered. The sub nodded.

They walked to the car and Kurt carefully opened the door. Why don't we both sit up front for now. I put up a curtain between the front and back seats so we’ll be more than comfortable. Just promise me you’ll try to stay quiet.”

“Why?” The sub asked curiously.

“Can you keep a secret?” She nodded ecstatically. He pulled back the red fabric of the curtain to reveal th- _ his _ sleeping sub.

_ “Oh,” _ Brittany gasped. “What happened to him?” Kurt’s small smile faltered. “He wasn’t treated right, to put it simply. I bought him to prevent a... really bad ...thing...from happening to him.” She nodded in understanding. “There were some slaves at the facility like that. Some of them were hurt so badly they wouldn’t be able to get up to eat during lunch.”

“What was the facility like?” He questioned.

Before she could answer, Santana came hastily striding out of the gym 

“Brittany! Kurt!” She yelled as she made her way to their car.

“Kurt,” she panted. “Are you okay? I saw you talking to those two guys but when I tried to get over to help you, those police officers stopped me.” She shook her head, “They told me that they were illegal sellers and as soon as I heard that I rushed over.”

She slumped against the car door. “This has really been a hectic day, huh?” Kurt and Brittany both watched her rub her tired eyes.

Brittany’s sub instincts seemed to take over, because she immediately rushed to her Dom’s side, aiming to lighten her mood. Kurt followed her out.

“Miss Santana,” she asked. “Yes, Brittany beautiful?” The blonde blushed at the pet name Santana had taken a liking to. “Could we maybe go to your home now? I would love to see it,” she questioned excitedly.

Santana brightened at her sub’s enthusiastic attitude and was once again grateful that she hadn’t been a slave for too long. That she was only in the facility for a week.

“Sure, beautiful. But remember, it’s your home too now. This is a partnership, we can be lovers while also being Dom and sub. We’ll take it slow for now, I don’t want to force you into anything.” Brittany nodded.

“Um,” Kurt tried to get his word in, but he wasn’t very keen on having to interrupt this loving moment between his friend and her sub. “I-I have to tell you something kind of important, ‘Tana.”

“Hmm?” She questioned, eyes still locked on Brittany’s.

“I bought a slave,” he rushed out.

_ “What?” _ Santana asked, instantly jumping to Kurt’s side.

“He’s, um, he’s in the back.”

Santana stepped over to the back of the car and opened the door hesitantly.

The slave didn’t wake from his slumber due to the temporary knock-out shot of anesthesia the nurses had used to immobilize him with.

They had patched him up as best as they could, though he wasn’t injured badly enough to be allowed into a hospital because of the current slave laws. If he had required immediate action like a broken bone or gunshot wound, they would have let him in without an owner, but since he was illegal he also didn’t have any health records or documents about him.

They weren’t able to identify him yet, though they did find out his basic information. His height, weight, almost age. Stuff like that. So far, Kurt had the papers explaining to him that his sub was 5’8, about 30 lbs underweight (121 lbs), and was born sometime in April, 1994. It wasn’t much to go off of, but Kurt was confident that he could get the former-slave to open up to him. Somehow.

“Did they do this to him? The illegal sellers you were with?” Kurt nodded. “I had to buy him, ‘Tana. They were going to put him down.” She paled at that.

“He looks terrible. Is he going to be okay?” She asked as brushed some hair out of his face. Kurt tried to ignore the jealous fire that roared at Santana’s movements.

“Yeah, the nurses that were with the police gave him some pain medicine. He’ll be alright as long as we- _ I _ can get him regular checkups. He has Chlamydia.” Santana loured. “That’s the reason they were going to put him down.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?” He questioned her.

“My cousin.” She replied darkly, lost in her memories. “He was put down for Gonorrhea. He didn’t have an owner at the time, my parents and I were his only family. We tried to buy him, but we were poor and didn’t have enough money." She clenched her fists in rage. "He was barely 19.”

Brittany hugged her. “It’s okay, Miss Santana, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sure of it.” She hugged the blonde back.

“How long will he be asleep for?” She asked Kurt. “About 2 hours," he answered. "The nurses gave him a pretty heavy shot of anesthesia. Once we get home, I’ll try to explain everything to him, hopefully without scaring him too much. I know I should’ve been more careful but it was an impulse I just couldn’t ignore, you know?”

“I get it.” There was a beat of silence between them.

“Are you going to claim him?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” he exclaimed.

Brittney looked at him, confused. “Mister Kurt,” she called.

“Just call him Kurt, beautiful," Santana said.

"Yes, Brittany?” He answered, still only focused on examining the bruised sub.

“Haven’t you already claimed him? You bought him.”

Santana and Kurt both frowned. “They’re not the same, beautiful,” Santana explained gently.

“When you claim someone,” Kurt started. “You are creating an intimate, romantic connection between yourself and your sub. You form an unbreakable bond with them that, for subs, cannot ever be changed. If a Dom’s sub dies, he or she can claim someone else. But if a sub’s Dom dies, they have a much worse fate if they cannot  _ ‘get over’ _ their grief quickly enough. Usually being sold to a farm to breed other subs.”

All three of them shuddered at the savage, animalistic way the government guaranteed 'perfect' subs.

“My brother was a sub to an ex-friend of mine. When he died, his Dom claimed someone else.” Both Kurt and Santana scowled for reasons Brittany was yet to be aware of.

“Buying a sub is like a cheap mimic of it, signaling that no other Dom can touch the sub without explicit permission, but without the love of a claiming. It’s horrible, though lots of people do it anyway.”

“How do you get out of a claiming?” She asked, curiosity evident in her bright eyes.

“Similarly to a divorce, in court.” Kurt answered.

“Miss Santana, are you going to claim  _ me?” _

“Not right now. Or ever, if you’re not comfortable with it. When we feel the time is right for us, if it's ever right, then...maybe.”

Brittany smiled, “I would like that very much Miss Santana. Though, I do agree that now is not the time.”

A groan came from the backseat, startling both the Doms and sub.

“You said he wouldn’t wake up for another two hours!” Santana whisper-screamed at the wide eyed man.

“I’ll check on him. Just give me a ‘sec.”

Kurt opened the back door, his sub was still sleeping.  _ Thankfully. _ He thought to himself.  _ We need to discuss our...situation...somewhere safer than this seller’s playpit. _

Sighing, he turned back around.

“I’ll ride in the back with him.” Santana and Brittany both nodded and made their way to the front seats of the Dom's ruby red car.

“Can you drive us home, ‘Tana?”

Santana nodded and turned on the radio. To a low volume, just in case. While the two women sang softly along to the trendy pop music on  _ Kiss FM _ , they pulled out of the gym's parking lot and got on the highway in the direction of Kurt's apartment.

Kurt just watched over his new sub, praying to a god he didn't believe in.


	3. Chapter Three

Kurt sipped on his cup of tea, waiting anxiously for his new sub to wake up as he replayed the day’s most recent events in his mind.

When Santana had gotten him home, he had carried his sub (bridal style, which involved him having a very awkward chat with Ms. Susie) inside to his room and set him on his bed. Then, thinking that might be too suggestible, he put him on the extra couch he kept in his office and gave the  _ extremely _ thin slave a bit too many blankets, just in case.

He tried distracting himself with his new designs for Vogue, reminding himself that Isabelle needed them before they had their next meeting. But he gave up when he found himself glancing at the couch (and it’s inhabitant) every 5 seconds. He eventually dragged himself away to watch an episode of  _ Project Runway _ , but he was still not able to focus on anything but the beautiful sub who was sleeping in his office.

So there he sat, drinking tea and reading an article on his laptop about how to help former slaves with big life transitions.

Everything was peaceful when suddenly, he heard a crash coming from his office. Racing as fast as his feet could carry him through his average-sized apartment, he stood panting in the doorway. There on the floor, was his sub, wrapped up in the multitude of heavy blankets Kurt had given him and looking lost.

The curly haired man winced in pain, and his gaze finally met Kurt’s from his spot on the floor.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Kurt gazed into his deep, hazel eyes. Swirls of warm honey and gold framed by long, thick lashes that Kurt had never before seen on a man. The silence between them stretched for an undetermined amount of time, so long it became almost awkward. But it was soon broken by the sub’s quiet question; “...Are you my new owner?”

He had asked it surprisingly calmly, considering Kurt was sure he was seconds away from a panic attack mere moments ago. “I’d rather not put it like that, but I did buy you,” the Dom explained meticulously.

“Yes,” The sub said, as he recalled what had happened earlier in the day. “The tall, pale man with the incredible glasz eyes, I remember you,” he said cautiously, trying to gauge his new owner’s reaction to speaking freely.

The only reaction he got was a bright red blush abruptly popping onto the taller man’s face.  _ This job should be pretty easy, _ he thought to himself.

Then, plastering a fake lust-filled smirk on his face and trying not to fear his new owner, he peeled the blankets off his body, stood up, and proceeded to pull off his shirt.

“Woah, no!” Kurt squealed in surprise. “You don’t have to do that!” The sub paused and arched one of his triangle-shaped eyebrows in question. “Really, please stop?” The sub did stop, though he was greatly confused. His black-and-white striped shirt was already halfway off his lean body and he would've already been stripped of his blue/gray jeans, if the peculiar Dom hadn’t _asked_ him to stop.

The slave was shocked that his owner would ask. He could have easily ordered him to, then he would have had no choice but to obey. There wouldn’t have been any doubts at all.

[ He stood, hands in his pockets awkwardly. ](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/f3/3d/b1/f33db1cbcf732a1af0d628c7f6a2156b--glee-cast-mens-fashion.jpg)

“Am I a gift for someone else then?”

Kurt's stomach lurched at the dull tone of his words.

The Dom looked sullen and the sub felt ashamed of himself for reasons he didn’t understand. Other Doms had rejected him before and he hadn’t felt anything but relieved, why should this man be any different?

“No. You’re not a slave here, you don’t have to…”

Kurt trailed off while the sub looked to the ground, finishing his sentence for him. “Service. That’s what we prefer to call it,” he explained.

“Well,” Kurt continued. “You don’t have to  _ service _ anyone here.”

The sub rolled his eyes in his head.  _ There’s always a catch, _ he thought gravely. “And?” The sub prompted. “What am I then? Am I your maid? Your servant? Assistant? Whatever you want to phrase this as?”

Kurt was taken aback by the sub’s bravery. From what he had read online, subs who were passed around as illegal slaves were much more timid than he seemed to be.

“No. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Kurt tried to get the shorter man to understand, though he didn’t look very convinced.

In his head, the sub acutely set out to ignore the little bird of hope that was attempting to flap its wings, metaphorically hoping to soar. He then symbolically chained it to the wall of his past.  _ Remember, _ he reminded himself.  _ No one cares about you. You’re just a slave. You just have to please your Master and do your job. _

“But I do have one thing,” Kurt said, unknowingly interrupting his sub’s mixed thoughts of hope and desolate memories. “-But you still don’t have to do it if you’re not okay with it.”

_ Of course. There it was. _

“Yes?” He asked, exasperated.

“Tell me your name?”

The sub blinked. “What?”

He was bewildered at the ridiculousness of the Dom’s question. He couldn’t find one single reason in his mind for why he would request such a thing. As far as he could tell, it served the Dom no purpose.

“Your name? Again, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. No, it’s fine,” he stammered. “My name is Blaine.”

“Blaine?” The Dom asked, happy to have gotten something out of him. He smiled at the affirmative nod  _ Blaine _ gave him.

“It fits you. My name is Kurt,” he smiled warmly as he introduced himself and held his hand out. Blaine looked at the outstretched hand, considering the likeness of him being tricked. He eventually took it, shaking it warily.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked his owner, who had to swallow down the sigh he felt coming up. “Um...do you want to watch some tv? Maybe read? What do you like to do?”

Blaine bit his lip, he wasn’t sure that this man was telling the truth, this could be a test that he would need to pass in order to avoid punishment. And although he had in fact grown used to the most popular of them, there was still one thing he despised in any situation: A caning. He would rarely risk getting punishment with a Dom he didn't know, just in case they happened to prefer caning their subs.

Thinking this, he knelt down in front of his owner and looked up at him through his thick eyelashes, just like he knew men loved, then slowly licked his lips. “One of my favorite hobbies,” he started, fumbling with his owner’s belt buckle, all while never breaking eye contact. “-is giving handsome men blowjobs.”

Kurt blushed violent red for the second time in less than an hour he had been talking with the slave. “Um, no. Again, you don’t have to do that here. I don’t require any sexual favors from you,” he pushed the sub’s hands away gently.

“Tell me what to do here,” Blaine pleaded as he sat back on his heels. He was completely dumbfounded. “You can either use me or don’t. But if you aren’t going to use me, then what am I here for?” The sub desperately asked his Dom, looking up at him from his place on the floor.

Blaine felt frustrated. He hated the feelings the Dom ignited in him. He hated that feeling of hope. He hated it because he knew it wasn’t true, he knew that soon enough this Dom would order him to quit acting ignorant and do his job. However and whomever it was for.

_ “You’re here,” _ Kurt started, kneeling down until the two men were level with each other. “-because I didn’t want you to die.”

Blaine rolled his eyes at the simplicity of it, but Kurt wasn’t finished.

_ “You’re here, _ because you are worth so much more than a sex slave.” At this Blaine’s eyes widened. Though once again, Kurt wasn’t finished. “And finally,  _ you’re here _ because if given the chance, I believe you would make some lucky Dom very happy.”

“You mean sexually?” Blaine asked, committed to staying passive about everything, despite how much it really meant to him to have heard those words.

“No, and I give you my word right here, right now,” he started and gently lifted Blaine’s face until they made eye contact. “-you will never be hurt like that again. I swear to you, to myself, and to whatever’s up there, that you will not be in a situation like that ever again. ”

Blaine swallowed nervously. This Dom was using all his power to ensure Blaine that he was serious. Blaine could feel it even in his lightest touch. “Nod please? If you understand?” Blaine did. And for the first time in his life, it felt good to obey a Dom.

<><><>

“No, I can’t come in today,” Kurt told his coworker, Isabelle, through his phone. He had been promoted many times over the last few years and now he and Isabelle were of equal level. Both Isabelle and Kurt were on the same degree of being feared-of and impressed-by the lower-level employees.

“Why not, Kurt?” She implored. “You know that we need this merge. The meeting with Saxlo’s director is coming up, we need to be prepared!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot leave him alone!”

“Him?” Isabelle asked suddenly, obviously intrigued.

“It’s not how you’re thinking,” he said, but he knew that she wouldn’t let this go. He swore at himself for not simply saying that he was sick and faked a cough.

“Well then, care to elaborate? Because I  _ know _ you’re not missing your incredibly-well-paid-job for just any man.”

Kurt nibbled on his lower lip in consideration. He couldn’t find any harm in telling her, he might even get a few paid days off for having good reason.

“Remember how Santana was told to find a sub by the end of the month or else she’d be arrested?”

“Yes…”

“She asked me to go with her. For support, of course!” He rushed to defend himself, “I had no intention of doing anything other than help her out, but…"

“Kurt!” Isabelle screeched over the phone, causing Kurt to pull it away from his ear in annoyance. “I thought that you didn’t believe in buying slaves!”

“I don’t! It’s just- He was- They were going to put him down, Isabelle! I...I had to,” he resigned.

Isabelle immediately calmed. “Oh, Kurt,” she cooed, her Dom instincts quickly falling into place.

“Is he alright?” She wondered, “Why would they even do something like that?”

“He apparently has Chlamydia,” Kurt answered, cursing at his shaky voice.

“Can’t that be cured with a few simple pills?”

“Yes. But he had no owner, no health documents, nothing. He was illegal and he wouldn't have been able to get help without someone buying him last minute. You should've seen him, Izzy. He’s scrawny and hurt so badly, he has bruises and whip-lash marks and bites and scratches and-”

“Kurt! Calm down!” She interrupted him “Quit rambling. He’s safe  _ now. _ With you. Isn’t that right?”

“...Yeah. Yes, he’s safe. But-”

“No, no but’s. Except for yours taking care of your sub. I’ll arrange for the meeting to be next week. I can’t push it any farther, but I’ll try to get you this week off. Is that okay?”

Kurt nodded before remembering that she couldn’t see him. “Yes. Yes, thank you. Thank you so much, Izzy. I’ll make it up to you soon.”

“No, no. None of that. I’m doing this as a friend, not a coworker. You don’t have to make anything up to me.”

“Alright. Thank you, Izzy. I’ll see you next week, bye.”

“Bye, Kurt. Good luck,” and with that she hung up.

Kurt twisted and rubbed his neck. He was sure that all this sleeping on the couch was causing some issues.

_ But, _ he thought, _ it’s worth it. He’s worth it. He’s worth everything. _

<><><>

Blaine woke up to hear Kurt ending a phone call from the other room.

“Yes. Yes, thank you. Thank you so much, Izzy. I’ll make it up to you soon.” There was a beat of silence where Blaine assumed  _ Izzy _ was responding, then: “Alright. Thank you, Izzy. I’ll see you next week, bye.”

Blaine vaguely wondered what the two were talking about before the door was pushed open suddenly. Blaine nearly fell off the bed.

He hadn’t even heard the pitter-patter of Kurt’s naturally light footsteps come through the hall, and was therefore thrown completely off balance.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Kurt spluttered, face a bright crimson because of his blush. “I need to be more careful with that, huh?” He joked. A small, unsure smile crossed the Dom’s face as he made his way in the room. “I brought you some more clothes. I figured you might want to take a shower or something. I didn’t have anything in your size, but we can go out today. Only if you want to, of course. I don’t want to pressure you into...”

Blaine couldn’t focus on the rest of the Dom’s blush-driven rant, because he was still stuck on the unusual offer for a shower.

“I can shower? With warm water, and actual water pressure?” Kurt stopped to look at him with even wider eyes than the ones Blaine was currently sporting.

“You weren't allowed to take showers?” He asked incredulously.

Blaine suddenly felt ashamed of himself. “No. We were only allowed to take group baths with cold water and no soap. The only time we ever got to take a shower was if our current owner wanted us cleaned.  _ Thoroughly _ cleaned.”

Kurt’s face remained red as he caught on to what Blaine was implying.

“You’re allowed to take as many showers as you want, whenever you want,” the taller man said as he smiled softly at him.

“Also,” he said instantaneously. “I have all this week off. I’ll be here with you until Monday next week.”

Blaine could feel the guilt start chipping at him, “You really shouldn’t miss work for me. It’ll only cause problems.  _ I’ll _ only cause problems.” He bit the inside of his cheek.

The Dom could tell he was worried about not only causing problems, but being one, as well. “Don’t worry about a thing, Blaine,” he spoke reassuringly. “We’ll be fine, I’ve earned enough extra points with the board members to miss work and not be scrutinized for it.” He waved his hand, declaring the end of the discussion and the curly haired man reluctantly agreed.

“I’ll leave you to it then. You can use whatever soaps and creams you want. I assume you can do it yourself, but if not I can help you, not in a creepy way! I just-

“Sir?” He said, interrupting the furiously blushing man from yet another rant. “Do you get flustered easily? Or do you have some other reason as to why you blush and monologue so very often?” Blaine knew it was a risk to question his owner such a thing, but his tone was light and playful.

Kurt merely laughed. “I’m sorry, I thought I grew out of that in high-school,” he explained. “And to answer your question, not usually, no. I’m normally more contained. I guess you just bring it out in me.”

His smile was full of teeth this time and Blaine matched it brightly, unable to contain his gratefulness on getting to shower.

He bounced over to the bathroom and sighed happily. This Dom will most likely use him sometime or another, but at least he was indulging Blaine on a little pleasure of his own.

[ He tugged off his pants and shirt. ](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/2c/a7/11/2ca711db5041b438f2f409aa4d81288e--darren-criss-glee.jpg) It was another striped shirt, though vertical rather than horizontal stripes this time, paired with some maroon pants and brown shoes that matched the color of his brown belt. He quite liked Kurt’s style.

But unfortunately, though it was sleek and stylish, it just didn’t match his look.

He recalled Kurt saying they would be going out for some clothes for him.

The sub didn’t know much about fashion, but he did have a few fond memories of him and his brother playing and laughing. His mother would always dress him up in bowties. Cooper had hated it, but Blaine always preened at the attention.

Blaine’s eyes welled up with sad tears at the memory. He hadn’t seen any of his old friends or family in a long time. Granted, he had made some friends in the clubs or...whatever places their owners would bring them too.

One couple especially caught his attention. Their names were Nick and Jeff. Jeff was clearly a Dom. His bright, eye-catching, blonde hair was a dead giveaway of the power he possessed. Nick, his sub, was sweet and abandoned by a former master whom Blaine never heard the name of. Jeff and Nick’s love story was truly one for the ages. A Dom and a sub finding each other through all of life’s difficulties and challenges.

They had exactly what Blaine had wanted. Had being the operative word. Now, he knew better than to dream of the perfect Dom. The perfect lover. The perfect partner.

Now, he knew he wasn’t good enough for that perfect man he no longer allowed himself to think of.


	4. Chapter Four

Blaine hopped in the shower and adjusted the settings quickly. It seemed Kurt had a special shower, for it had settings for not only temperature but also pressure and spray type. Blaine played around with it a little and soon, he had gotten the hang of it.

The steady, hot drops of water felt good on his aching muscles. His remaining blood was washed down the drain and his multicolor bruises were soothed immediately.

Blaine raked his hand across the many goos and potions of his Dom’s shower absently.

There was body wash, facial scrubs, shampoos and conditioners of every kind, hair creams, after-shave, and- Blaine blushed- lube . Blaine felt his eyes lingering on the half full bottle of the familiar slick liquid. Questions ran through his head.

Did his Dom already have a partner? Or, did he jerk-off while he was here? Blaine hated it as he started feeling jealous. Who does he jerk-off to? Or was the first guess right? Is there someone else? If so, who?

He grabbed the bottle off the rack, utterly and absolutely ignoring everything else. He squeezed some of the pearly liquid onto his forefinger and lifted it to his nose and breathed in deeply.

It smelled different, unlike other Doms he had been previously owned by. It smelled sweet, but also lonely. The scent of hope, almost.

Hope was something Blaine hadn’t had in a long time.

The slick, translucent liquid dripped down off his finger as his head began to spiral with memories from his past.

Specifically, memories of his boyhood haunted him. Terrorized him both day and night. But he stayed strong. He had only cried once. That was the day he had been sold. Over a decade ago.

He suddenly started panting and wrapped his arms around his unhealthily skinny body.

**_You’re nothing._ ** A cruel voice told him.

**_Nothing but a pathetic sex slave._ **

He held his arms closer. Tighter. But he was still cold and shaky.

**_You’re worthless._ **

He tried desperately to block out the taunting, yet mysteriously calm voice. It was as if the voice couldn’t even be bothered to yell at him. Like he wasn’t enough to waste it’s vile breath on.

_No._ He told the voice. _This man, this kind man bought me._

The voice only doubled down. **_And why do you think he did it? Because he truly thought you were actually worth something? No. It was only because he pitied you. Because you’re pitiful and disgusting._ **

He collapsed down onto the floor beneath him. After only a minute of feeble struggling, did he decide to stay there. Blaine felt like a beetle on its back, unable to be free and avoid getting squished by a giant shoe of someone who doesn’t care. He tried to fight off what he knew was a panic attack. His breaths were getting louder though, and he feared Kurt getting angry at him for causing too much commotion.

He realized he was right as he heard the deep stride of his owner’s feet. He sucked in a deep breath, ready for the door to be swung open and to be dragged away for whatever punishment his owner, no, his Master saw fit. 

<><><>

“Blaine, are you okay, in there?” Kurt rapped on the door. A small, shaky voice answered from within the restroom confinements, “You don’t have to come in, Sir. I’m alright.” Kurt could tell something was off. He didn’t know how, he just sensed it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Master.”

Kurt flung the door open at that. It was the first time Blaine had called him Master. When they had their first conversation after Blaine had awoken, he referred to Kurt as his owner. Then, in less tense conversations, he called Kurt Sir. He had never called him Master. Not once.

“Oh, Blaine.” Blaine was cowered in a corner, arms wrapped around his naked body as he cried. Sobs racketed through his unhealthily small body as Kurt turned the water off, wrapped him up in a towel, and carried him out.

Blaine’s eyes were tear filled and rubbed red. His lip was bleeding from where it seemed to have been bit down on so much. He carefully lifted his hand to wipe away the scarlet drop, but stopped as Blaine involuntarily flinched.

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you tell me you were alright when you’re not?” Kurt’s voice had taken a sharp edge, and unknowingly to Kurt, it cut through the sub, making it more than difficult for him to breathe.

“I’m sorry, Master.” He panted, a break cutting through each word. He was clearly having a panic attack.

“No. It’s not your fault,” Kurt said and furrowed his brows.

“But it is,” Blaine insisted. “It’s all my fault. Everything.”

Kurt looked into his eyes. Blaine looked beyond them, to the wall on the right of Kurt rather than meeting his gaze directly. And even though their eyes were not locked, Kurt could see them shine with sincerity. He truly thought that he was to blame. He really believed that he was the one messing up here.

“Blaine,” he summoned. No answer.

He inhaled shakily.

“Pet.”

Blaine’s curly-haired head snapped up to meet his gaze. “Yes, Master?”

Kurt nibbled on his lower lip. It seemed as though Blaine’s sub instincts had taken over. The boy felt trapped, so therefore, he wanted to be relieved of that feeling. To be controlled over. Taken care of. Loved, maybe. Definitely.

“I need you to calm down, pet. Breathe normal sized breaths. Deep breaths won’t help right now, so don’t do that or you might hyperventilate. Take a breath with me.”

Blaine did. His hazel eyes glazed over and his mouth slightly parted. After a few more breaths, they stopped. Blaine’s chest was still heaving, but his crying eyes and dried, leaving stains on his cheeks that he hastily wiped away.

“Blaine? Are you alright now?”

Blaine nodded slowly. “Thank you, Sir. That really helped.”

Kurt exhaled, “So you’re well enough to talk to me?”

Blaine once again looked to the wall. Kurt noticed and gently pressed two, thin fingers under the sub’s chin, lifting his head calmly.

“Why did you tell me you were okay when you weren’t?”

Blaine tried to remove his gaze from being locked on Kurt’s. But he found he was tied to it like a rope on a boat. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from the stunning glasz eyes of his Dom’s.

He did however notice something wrong with them, they weren’t the normal bright ones he had recently been acquired with. These were more gray than green or blue and looked almost resigned. Hopeless, really.

Blaine gulped. He had caused the change in demeanor. He was the one who messed up. Him. Blaine.

“I saw the lube, Sir. It brought up...bad memories.”

Kurt paled, even more so than his usual ivory complexion.

“I am so sorry, Blaine. I completely forgot that I put that there.”

Both Kurt and Blaine were regretful and saddened. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Blaine asked.

Kurt quipped an eyebrow in question, “Help with what?”

Blaine looked to the floor, at his Dom’s immaculate boots paired nicely with a white button down shirt. [ Kurt was clearly a very fashionable man. ](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/b9/98/90/b9989053fe67d6ca0164dc6727dbdc46--glee-fashion-fandom-fashion.jpg) “Your service. And my punishment,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Just because I don’t particularly like that you lied to me, doesn’t mean I’m going to hurt you like that.” Kurt’s tone was one of hurt. He knew it wasn’t Blaine’s fault, after all they didn’t really know each other, but he felt like a monster he knew he wasn’t when Blaine said something like that.

“Yes, Sir.” The sub replied, still looking at their feet. Blaine’s feet were bare, scratched and bruised, and covered with flaws. Kurt’s feet were clothed with sophisticated, black boots that showed just how elegant he was. As he compared the two he endured his stomach turn.

The silence between them stretched. Time passed in an uncountable way.

“What time is it, Sir?” Blaine asked as he looked out the window. He noticed how dark it was, with only the yellow glow of the streetlights to show for.

Kurt checked his watch, “Wow. We’ve been here for hours. It was about 5:30 when you went to take your shower, now it’s about 9:00. Did you ever get to take that shower?”

Blaine nodded. Before he had seen the lube, he had shampooed and even conditioned his hair.

“Are you going to sleep on the couch again, Sir? Or shall I?”

Kurt thought for a second, considering his logical question. “I’ll sleep on the couch until I can afford to buy a new bed.”

“Afford?” Blaine asked, “Don’t you get paid a lot at Vogue, Sir?”

Kurt hesitated. “How did you know I worked at Vogue?”

“The posters and magazines, Sir,” Blaine replied instantly. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Kurt nodded. “I do, normally. But since I bought you I had to cut back. Don't worry though, you were worth it. I see something in you, Blaine. Something worth it all.”

Blaine stared at him, unable to convey what those words meant to him in simple english. “Thank you,” he finally decided. “I should sleep on the couch since the only reason you can’t afford a second one is because of me.”

“No, Blaine. It’s alright.”

“Please,” the shorter man begged. “Let me do something to help. Let me let you sleep in your bed.”

Kurt bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ll sleep in the bed,” Blaine’s face brightened. “But you have to as well. I’m not going to force you to sleep on some lousy couch when you’re injured. You can decline and I’ll simply sleep in my office instead-”

“It’s fine!” Blaine interrupted.

“We can both sleep on the bed?” Kurt eyebrows were nearly at his hairline. He was sure that Blaine would fall for his bluff.

“Are you certain? Be honest this time, please.” Blaine nodded surely. “Positive.”

<><><>

The two men awkwardly laid down. They were side by side on Kurt’s queen sized bed. Blaine had been distinctly aware of the sound of his owner’s breath as he lay on his back, mirroring the Dom.

His hands were folded at his waist and he was trying to stay utterly silent, Kurt doing the same. They stayed like that for a while, awkward silence and all.

The whole time, though, Blaine had had a certain compelling question on his mind.

Finally, he cleared his throat, “Why did you buy me, Sir?”

Kurt sat up instantly. Leaning on his arm, he gazed down at the anxious sub. “What? I told you, I bought you because I think you’re worth more than a slave.”

Blaine made a noise of agreement and rolled on his side. “Okay.”

Kurt stared at him still, “Why do you think I bought you?”

Blaine gulped audibly. “Because you pity me,” he whispered in a moment of genuinity.

“I...I don’t…” Kurt trailed off. It was true he had felt bad for the sub, but that didn't necessarily mean that it wasn’t true he saw something in him.

“I suppose,” he started cautiously. “That I did pity you a little. Not because you were a slave, though. But rather because you were all alone.” He stammered, looking for the right words, “I...I know how that feels, too. So, just seeing you being beat up like that, it brought back some pretty heavy feelings and I’m sorry. I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with me buying you. Instead, I just assumed that you would be happy. I sincerely apologize, Blaine. I shouldn’t have just assumed that you’d be happier with me. I think I was just lonely and looking for an excuse for some human contact.”

Blaine turned back around. Kurt had moved away from him during his speech. He now sat away from Blaine. His legs were hanging off the bed and his arms were wrapped around himself in a way that Blaine was all too familiar with.

The curly haired man crossed the bed on his hands and knees. He tapped his owner's shoulder tentatively.

“Sir? Please come back to bed. I-I’m...I’m not used t-to sleeping alone.”

It was the first time he had ever asked a Dom to lay with him. He usually felt better alone with his despair rather than with one who had previously violated him.

Kurt shrugged his hand away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make you feel like you're obligated to make me feel better. I’ll go sleep in my office.” Kurt made a move to stand. But he was pulled by his wrist, Blaine staring up at him, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks.

“Please, don’t go. I want you here.”

Kurt looked at him over his shoulder. “Are you positive? I don’t want to intrude and I know you still don’t trust me.”

Blaine nodded. “Really. I don’t like being alone, Sir.”

Kurt nodded and slipped back under the covers. Blaine turned to his side again. “Can you…”

“Yes, Blaine?” Kurt asked. “Could you maybe...hold me, Sir?” Kurt did.

He leaned over to Blaine’s side of the bed and wrapped an arm around Blaine. But soon he felt the sub shaking like a leaf. “You’re not comfortable like this.” It wasn’t a question. Kurt took his arm back like he had been burned.

“No.” Blaine answered. “I’m, sor-”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s understandable.”

Blaine turned to face him. “Thank you, Sir.”

Kurt looked back at him, also on his side. “For what?” He queried.

“For noticing. And for caring. Usually no one does.”

Kurt nodded solemnly in understanding. “You’re welcome.” He guessed it was the right answer because Blaine smiled softly, the corners of his mouth turning up a little.

They both closed their eyes and drifted off peacefully.

<><><>

“Kurt!”

Blaine rubbed his eyes. There was someone banging on the door and shouting for his owner.

“Kurt! I know you're home! Let me in!”

Blaine dragged himself away from the bed, tugging on a blanket until Kurt let go and wrapped himself up in it. “Coming!” He yelled and headed for the door.

He turned the silver door knob and pulled it open to see a short brunette crossing her arms as soon as her angry gaze landed on her. She wore a Cienaga top by Marc Jacobs and a metallic tweed skater skirt by Hinge. [Her face clearly showed her unpleasant attitude.](https://uploads.wornontv.net/2014/02/rachels-white-perforated-sleeve-sweater-tweed-skirt.jpg)

“So it’s true.” She said, looking him up and down. Blaine shifted on his feet uncomfortably, he didn’t know her, but she was clearly a Dom. An unstable Dom at that, Blaine could feel it from just her presence.

“Move it, whore. I need to talk to your Master.” She didn’t bother waiting for him to move, instead pushing him aside and shoving her purse in his hands. Completely ignoring him as the blankets fell and he started shivering in his spot.

Kurt said he could change the temperature, but Blaine turned it down in the middle of the night when he saw the Dom sweating in his sleep.

“Uh, he’s in his room, Ma’am.” She ignored him, though she did start marching to his room’s door.

“Kurt!” She swung the door open. Kurt had apparently woken up, but not heard her because he was fully dressed. He glared as Rachel barged in.

“You hypocrite! You get mad at me for claiming Quinn, then you go and buy some pathetic slut! At least Quinn wanted me! This tramp probably hates you!”

Kurt. Was. Pissed.

“Blaine,” he said eerily calmly.

“Yes, Sir?” Blaine hated as his voice shook, but this woman was truly vile. He had never felt so defiled with just mere words.

“Please wait in the kitchen while I have a talk with my...associate. You’re welcome to any food you find.”

Blaine took the hint. “Yes, Sir.” He closed the door, and made his way to the kitchen.

“Rachel. What are you doing in my home, ordering my sub, and calling him as well as myself insulting names?” He demanded.

“I’m here,” she retaliated. “Because when I went to visit Santana and her sub, the brat actually dared to talk to me. And she mentioned that when she was bought, a man named Kurt bought a poor, abused slave.” She mimicked the last part in mocking, heartbroken whine, sticking her bottom lip out in a fake pout.

“Because you’re such a fucking hero, huh? You’re so much better than me because instead of claiming someone who was asking for it,” Kurt clenched his fist while she stressed that part, as she always did. “-You bought some mindless whore.”

“He is not mindless, or a whore.”

She laughed. “All those nasty sluts are.” He glared.

“I bet,” she drawled. “I bet he even has a few STDs. Some dirty, harlot like him has to. Quinn’s clean. I made sure of that. Like a proper Dom, unlike you.” She sneered.

“Rachel,” he growled, voice low in his throat. He was ready to kill her, ready to save Quinn from this monster and just do it. “You are not welcome here. You haven't been since you went fucking crazy and claimed Quinn without her permission.”

She scowled, insane flames flicking in her eyes.

“You realize that every time you have Quinn do something sexual, that you’re raping her. It doesn’t matter if you claimed her, she did not give you consent.”

Rachel only glared some more. “You’re just jealous. I love her and she loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t. You claimed her because you were lonely after Finn died. There isn’t anything wrong with being depressed after something like that. Hell, we all were. But you let your grief take you too far.”

“If she doesn't love me she would say so.” Rachel couldn’t stop fighting this point.

“You are not a stable person, Rachel. Much less a stable Dom.”

“That is a lie. Quinn needs me, she loves me.”

“You need to go, Rachel. You are not welcome here. Leave now,” Kurt managed through gritted teeth.

“I-”

“Go!”

Rachel huffed and strode out.

Sighing, Kurt pulled out his phone and looked through his contacts. He found the correct number and clicked on it.

A chorus of cheesy elevator-like music came through until his friend’s nurse picked up.

“Hey, Sam,” he answered, knowing if it wasn’t Mercedes, it had to be her husband. 

“Oh, hey, Kurt!” came the blonde’s eager voice. “What’s up, man? You haven’t called Mercedes or me in forever!”

Kurt chuckled. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to have a doctor close by though, not states away. Regardless of you two being my friends or not.”

Sam laughed, too. “Hey ‘Cedes!” Kurt heard him call out to his wife, “Kurt’s on the phone!”

Kurt laughed cheerily, much happier to hear his real friends' voices instead of Rachel’s.

“Well, hello, stranger,” Mercedes teased as she picked up. “How’ve you been, white boy?”

“Good, I guess.”

“You guess? What happened, babe?”

Kurt rubbed his eyes and groaned. “You haven’t heard of it?”

“Heard what?” Mercedes asked, worry evident in her voice.

“I got a sub,” Kurt said. He pulled the phone away from his face as he heard her squeal on the other side.

“Who? What’s his name? Is he cute?” Came the symphony of Mercedes’ questions.

The Dom chuckled, but this time there was no humor in it. “His name is Blaine. And, you’re not gonna like this, but…”

But…?” She wondered aloud.

“I bought him. From a slave market,” Kurt mumbled sheepishly, ready for her scolding to start.

“No! You didn’t! Kurt, you’re better than that!”

“It’s not like that! I don’t want to explain it to you over the phone, but it really isn’t! I was actually planning on going to L.A. so that you could meet him.”

The line was quiet.

“...Are you sure that’s a good idea? If what you’re saying is true, he might not be ready to meet us.”

Kurt sucked on his bottom lip. “He has chlamydia. You and Sam are the only medical professionals I know for sure that I can trust.” He listened as Mercedes explained everything to Sam.

“Are you coming all the way out here to L.A.?” The male switch asked.

Kurt looked at the door. “Yes,” he decided. “We’ll both be there.” The couple on the other side agreed and he hung up.

“Now,” he mumbled to no one but himself. “To explain this all to Blaine without having him freak out too much."


	5. Chapter Five

“Blaine!” He called as he made his way through his apartment.

“Yes, Sir?”

Kurt smiled sadly at the former-slave as his curly head appeared from the kitchen.

“I called the doctor. We’re going to L.A. tomorrow.”

Blaine paled, “What? B-But I...Havent I- I been good? Why do I have to go _there?”_

Kurt’s eyebrows scrunched up. “No, we just need to get you your pills.”

Blaine’s eyes went wide with fear. “P-pills?”

Kurt approached him slowly. Like Blaine was a wild animal he didn’t want to scare off.

“Yes, Blaine. You have Chlamydia, but after we get you a treatment plan, you’ll be clean. It won’t hurt very much. Just a little pill or something, it’s okay. I’m going with you, they won’t hurt you.”

“I have Chlamydia?” He shook violently.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Kurt tried to calm him down. “I trust these doctors with all my heart. We’re old friends.”

Blaine wasn’t listening though, too far lost in his own thoughts. Kurt wrapped him up in his long arms. He cooed and shushed him quietly. The noise of the sub’s sobs echoing throughout the apartment.

“Shh, shh, Blaine. We’re going to be fine. I’m not going to hurt you and neither are they. Sam and Mercedes are the best in the business. They won’t hurt you.”

Blaine nodded, but fat tears still ran down his face and horrid cries continued to rip themselves from his throat.

He was going to L.A. He had never been anywhere but New York. At least, not as a slave.

Blaine used to live in Westerville, Ohio for the high school portion of his life. His father died before he was born and his mother was an uncommonly proud, self-sufficient sub. She had been given the family fortune in his father’s will, but she instead got a real job to support her children.

Blaine always admired their relationship, he looked up to his mother all his life.

Even as a widowed sub, Pamela Anderson had had a house, a job, two children, and no Dom. She was magnificent.

Blaine wanted to be like her, before he was a slave.

A shiver ran down his bony spine. _Don’t think about that._ He told himself.

Instead, he focused on the warm feeling of the Dom around him. Kurt shushed and cooed at him, his strong arms keeping Blaine grounded, making him feel like Kurt was the anchor he’d yearned for for so long. He held tight to his owner’s arms, content to stay there for as long as he could.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked after moments of utter silence.

“Yes, Sir?” The sub answered.

“We need to start packing. We’re going to leave tonight so we can meet Sam and Mercedes in the morning at the airport.”

Blaine nodded dazily, not yet wanting to leave the Dom’s embrace.

“I’ll be okay. But I’ve never flown consciously. You might need to use another anesthesia shot.”

“Another? You knew that was what the nurses used earlier?”

Blaine nodded, “I’m familiar with the feeling of them. Doms usually prefer for their subs to be unconscious while being transported.”

Kurt looked horrified. Blaine, however, was all too informal about the whole ordeal.

He let his eyes droop down and leaned back onto his owner sleepily. All of his freaking out and panic-attack-ing (?) was exhausting. Blaine was worried and stressed. Momentarily letting himself go and preening for Kurt.

Kurt, though surprised, smiled and cheered inside his head at the small accomplishment. He gingerly petted the ebony curls and smiled when he felt Blaine cautiously tilt his head for a better angle.

“Mhmm…” Blaine keened softly, barely audible to Kurt. But the lithe man still heard it, he listened intently to every single sound the reluctant sub made.

“Can we just stay like this for a minute…?” He requested droopily.

Kurt nodded, “Sure, Blaine.” He let his own glasz eyes slip close. His head fell back on the couch which they were lying on.

“Sara?” He called out to his ePhone (yeh. :3 I just did that), “Set an alarm for an hour from now.”

They fell asleep together, Blaine finally getting the sleep he lacked. He wasn’t able to sleep much the night before, kept up by the presence he had requested for reasons he wasn't sure of. 

<><><>

An hour later, just like Kurt had intended, the alarm on his ePhone went off. Blaine jumped, startled at the unfamiliar chiming.

Blaine noticed that he had also been moved to the bed and covered with a warm blanket during his deep slumber.

He spotted two large suitcases at the end of the bed when he got up to turn off the now-irritating alarm.

Kurt was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced around the room, hoping to locate the missing Dom. But aside from himself and the furniture, the room was empty.

He shivered. He spotted a familiar sweater on the bed and did something admittedly risky: He grabbed his owner’s deserted sweater and pulled it on. He was immediately rewarded with not only warmth and comfort from the garment, but also the enchanting vanilla smell of the Dom. He breathed it in deeply, blushing at how ridiculous it was, even to him.

He walked out of the bedroom and into his owner’s office. Letting out a sigh of relief as he saw the Dom’s slim figure on the couch.

His owner was typing furiously on his laptop, the clickety-clack loud in the quiet room. He had what looked to be a cup of tea next to him and a serious expression on his face. Blaine had never before seen him look so focused, regardless of the little time he had been with him.

“Sir?” Blaine called out. Kurt made no move to notice Blaine.

“Sir?” He called out a second time, repeating himself. Once again, Kurt didn’t acknowledge his presence.

Blaine stepped through the doorway and made his way towards him. The couch’s back was facing the doorway, so Kurt didn’t see Blaine as he looked over the Dom’s shoulder curiously. “Sir?”

Blaine was sure his owner jumped 6 feet high.

“Holy fuck, Blaine!” He screamed, clutching his chest where his heart was. “You scared the living shit out of me!”

Blaine flinched at his scream, but was otherwise slightly amused. Although he didn’t dare show it, he had to force the corners of his mouth down. “Sorry, Sir.”

Kurt chuckled. “It’s fine, Blaine. Just...don’t…don’t do that...please…” He said nervously.

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine replied. “I woke up to your alarm, are we leaving soon?”

Kurt smiled, his breathing finally even. “Soon, but not yet. We’ll leave in 30 minutes or so.”

Blaine nodded. “Should I do anything before we leave?”

Kurt shook his head no, “I packed everything we’ll need. You can just relax until we go to the airport.”

Blaine nodded. “Um, Sir? One more thing?” Blaine asked warily.

“Yes, Blaine?”

Blaine twisted his hands self-consciously. “Who-Who was that Dom? She didn't seem very well balanced, dangerous, almost.”

Kurt’s small smile fell. “Oh...her.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “That was Rachel. And you’re pretty spot-on about her being dangerous.”

Blaine watched as a stoic expression overtook his owner’s face. He gulped when he saw the Dom clench his fists at his sides.

“Her sub is an old friend, Quinn. When we were in high school, we were both on the same cheer squad. Quinn was head cheerleader, an honor that was rare for a sub at my school. Quinn and Santana were the closest friends I had, apart from Mercedes, anyway. But after she found Sam, well, we drifted apart.”

Blaine nodded in solemn understanding, he knew what it felt like to be left behind. Even if it was for the right reasons, it still hurt.

“Rachel was my step-sister-in-law, for a little while.”

“Was?” Blaine queried, both intrigued and confused.

“My step-brother died when we were in high school. He was her sub and losing him hurt everyone, but...she especially suffered. She claimed Quinn without her consent. She’s a bit...mentally unhealthy...and it’s hard not to hate her for that, but it’s also not her fault, you know?”

Blaine didn’t know. Nonetheless, he nodded. He desperately longed for the man to feel better.

The Dom stood bizarrely still, absent-minded.

“Sir?”

Kurt flinched at the sound of Blaine’s voice, dragging him from his painful memories.

“Hmm?”

“Should we go now, Sir?”

Kurt looked at his watch, his eyes looking down surprisedly.

“It seems our conversations go a lot faster than it feels like. Yes, we need to go if we’re going to catch our flight.”

Kurt rushed to the bedroom and grabbed the suitcases. “Alright,” he stated. “Let’s go.”

<><><>

Blaine was bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. It reminded Kurt of a small child, or maybe a puppy.

His hazel eyes were wide as his gaze skipped across the impossibly large New York airport.

“Whoa…” Blaine mumbled when he saw the sub quarters. Kurt looked over as well. The subs working there weren’t slaves. It was a job they got on their own volition. They were cleaned, fed, paid , and even looked happy.

“I can’t believe they’re treated so well…” Blaine once again mumbled, this time his mouth around a cronut Kurt bought him.

Kurt’s eyes flickered over to where Blaine was looking. There, on the wall, written in big, bright red letters, was a sign that listed what a Dom could not do to one of the service subs.

Blaine’s gaze was glued to the very first one: **NO MEANS NO.**

Kurt knew this very well, but Blaine seemed foreign to the idea. “No means no, huh?” He whispered. Kurt thought he might have been talking to himself

Kurt saddened as he realized that Blaine hadn’t been allowed to say no, that even if he did, nobody would listen and instead hurt him even further.

Blaine wasn’t treated as a sub, as a human, but as a true slave. He didn’t get cleaned, fed, or paid like the subs who did this job, and he most certainly wasn’t happy, at least based on what Kurt could tell.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked, noticing the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yes, Sir?” He replied earnestly and turned to look at Kurt with a smile, despite his tears.

“Are you okay, Blaine? Do you feel okay?”

Blaine nodded and a large smile broke out on his face. “I’m most certainly okay, Sir. I get to see a group of submissives have it better than I did. They aren’t slaves, they can say no, they’re happy.”

Kurt was confused, was the former-slave really happy for them? Kurt couldn’t tell.

“I get to see something horrible become better for the next generation, by the next generation!” He smiled, voice near a shout without a care in the world. “It makes me have faith in the world!”

He beamed brightly and ran up to Kurt, shocking the man when he realized he was being pulled into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered genuinely.

“For what?” Kurt asked, petting the man's curls.

“For letting me see this; Change,” he spoke softly, as if afraid Kurt wouldn’t understand.

Kurt beamed and hugged him tighter. They held each other fondly.

Then, without thinking, Kurt answered; “Of course, sweetness.”

Blaine stiffened at the name and Kurt knew he messed up. The shorter man pulled back and looked at the ground. “Um...Thank you, Sir…”

“Blaine…”

The former-slave looked back up at him, hazel eyes gone murky and dark with confusion.

Kurt longed to apologize, “I-”

“Flight 291 is now boarding. All passengers please proceed to gate four.”

Kurt looked at the time on his phone, also making sure to check that airplane mode was turned on. “We-we need to go.”

Blaine nodded his agreement, now walking a step behind his owner respectfully. “Blaine, you don’t have to do that,” Kurt almost whined to him.

“It's what's best, Sir. Unless you would like to order me to service you in the proper manner?” He stared coldly, raising an eyebrow, daring the Dom to do it.

“You’re really going to play that card?” Kurt hissed, momentarily startling Blaine with the sudden level of distrust and power in him.

“No, Sir,” he said immediately, looking down out of habit.

Kurt sighed, “I’m sorry, Blaine. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Blaine looked back up. The Dom looked exhausted. Blaine all at once realized that Kurt hadn’t slept in what looked to be quite a while. There were dark circles swimming under his dull, gray eyes, his lips were chapped and cracked, and his expression--especially when smiling--was tight and now clearly forced.

“...Is there something on my face?” Kurt asked, oddly fidgeting under the sub’s staring. The Dom never squirmed when being faced down, actually stood a little taller. But this sweet, submissive former-slave tore down all his walls and broke past all his barriers. Kurt was almost embarrassed that he liked it. That he took pride in it.

He had, after all, yearned for someone to be able to do that all his life. For someone’s mere presence to calm him down. To ground him.


	6. Chapter Six

Blaine could not stay still. He was terrified.

Doms and subs were placed beside each other during travel, in most circumstances, that is. But Blaine had been illegal, he had no papers. Therefore he had no identification, passports, or driver's license. Once again, he found himself with the problem of having nothing.

Kurt had tried, a little too hard in Blaine's opinion, but Blaine personally thought Kurt wouldn’t be that kind to him until Blaine apologized for their fight. Yet regardless of their silent agreement to not bring it up, he did try. He begged and bribed and bargained for Blaine to be seated next to him, but to no avail. The airline wouldn’t let Blaine be with the man, or with the other passengers at all.

That's right, he was in the pet-and-cargo area.  _ ‘Like a fucking suitcase,’ _ Kurt had announced bluntly, hating that he couldn’t do anything for the sub.

Blaine had assured his owner he was fine, though in all honesty, he was far from it. His body was experiencing some twisted sort of withdrawals. It was either from being as intimate, well, physically close, to someone as he normally is, or simply from the lack of orgasms he’s had.  _ Just a little while longer, _ he chanted to himself in his pounding head. Figuratively screaming over the roar of the plane engine.  _ Hold yourself together for one. more. hour. _ Blaine recited this to himself over and over again until he found himself falling asleep.

_ “Pet?” Blaine opened his eyes, blinking at the white light above him. “Pet, wake up now,” he heard Kurt whisper teasingly. _

__

_ “Sir?” _

__

_ Kurt’s figure was seen as he at last stepped into the light, Beauty & The Beast style. But he was no beast, he looked like an angel of some sort, No, a seductive devil, ready to drag him away to be punished in a moment’s notice. _

__

_ “Sir?” Blaine asked again, admittedly both confused and aroused at the awe-inspiring sight of his owner. _

__

_ “No. Not Sir, pet. I am your Master, and you shall treat me as such. Is that clear?” _

__

_ “Ye-” _

__

_ “Did I say you could speak?” Kurt growled, to which Blaine nodded, answering the question as best as he could without doing so verbally. _

__

_ Kurt stared for only a short moment, suddenly pouncing on Blaine, devouring his lips and squeezing his dick viciously. Blaine wriggled as best as he could around the surprisingly strong grip of the Dom. _

__

_ Kurt let out a groan as Blaine jerked up, ramming his leaking member against Kurt’s hand, longing for relief. “I give you permission to answer these next few questions, albeit in as little words as possible, pet.” _

__

_ Blaine nodded and Kurt removed his hand, ignoring Blaine's quiet pleas to return. _

__

_ “Do you enjoy my body, pet?” _

__

_ Blaine stood, mouth agape as his Master posed for him, hand on a cocked-out hip and dick jutting hard from under his  _ [ _ tight, navy briefs. _ ](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0803/2227/products/JC01-NAVY-2_900x.jpg?v=1580571729) _ Blaine felt all his blood rush south, his cock straining against his own  _ [ _ red thong, _ ](http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcRksWzeum-X3SJAioTaQ3kvmuKHi62Oe0WXOt4VKke9WGWiWi0xt5GTjIQojWpUkQQ24E9FQZnS&usqp=CAc) _ a dark spot already formed and only growing in size and intensity. _

__

_ “Oh yes, Master,” he moaned, his hips thrusting into the air, looking for any possible kind of friction. _

__

_ “Good boy,” Kurt purred, cock swelling impossibly larger. _

__

_ “Unh…” Blaine grunted, loving the praise. _

__

_ “Next question. What are you thinking? Right now, with your dick as hard as a rock?” Kurt asked evenly, as if Blaine being fully hard and submissive was just a normal, every-day thing. _

__

_ “I can’t think much, truth be told, Master…” _

__

_ Kurt’s hand fell down swiftly. Blaine gasped as he felt the jolt of skin-against-skin on his open left thigh. _

__

_ “Answer my question.” Kurt ordered calmy, whispering it against Blaine’s reddening skin. _

__

_ “You! Master, you!” Blaine yelped as Kurt brought down two more smacks to his right thigh. _

__

_ “Specify,” ordered Kurt. _

__

_ “I think about…” Blaine trailed off and looked around the small room. The light was fading slowly, giving him time to ask the Dom what was going on. _

__

_ “Looks like you’re being pulled out of the dream,” he said, smirking as he sat up to Blaine’s level. _

__

_ “Dream?” Asked Blaine, eyes widening. _

__

_ “Well, of course,” Dream Kurt chuckled. “Do you really think that the real Kurt would do this to you, he cares too much. He’s too kind and frankly, stuck up. And while a part of you is grateful for that,” he drawled, licking a long stroke up Blaine’s neck, pausing only to nip at his ear. “-a part of you hates him for it.” _

__

_ Blaine whimpered. “That’s not true. I don’t want him to hurt me,” Blaine insisted. _

__

_ The Dream Kurt only laughed. “Maybe, but you do want him. If what you said were true I wouldn’t be here...sweetness.” Blaine shivered deliciously. _

__

_ “You see, pet-” _

__

_ “Don’t call me that.” _

__

_ Dream Kurt’s wicked grin grew widely. “You see,” he continued. “Not only do you yearn for him and his attention, you just proved it to yourself. You let me call you that when you believed I was him; Your oh-so-gentle, kind, loving Master. But as soon as you found out I was only your subconscious, you hated it.” _

__

_ Blaine looked at the floor. _

__

_ It was a surreal feeling, talking with your subconscious. Finding out the person that you were kind of afraid of was the same person you were obsessively attracted to. _

__

_ “Goodbye, Blaine. I’ll be awaiting your next arrival,” Dream Kurt groaned as he palmed his own dick. “I know you want to see what’s under these pants,” Dream Kurt’s voice was practically dripping with honey. “See you next time, sweetness.” _

Blaine gulped as the light pulled him out of his dream.

He looked down at his straining erection dejectedly. He hated that his lack of being used was affecting his body like this. He felt disgusted at his...unique...dream about his owner.

Blaine finally realized that they were stopped when the door opened and he saw the main man of his latest dream enter.

“Oh, Blaine! I know I shouldn’t have been so worried but I was, I am so sorry you had to be stuck down here!”

Blaine simply nodded along, still staring up at him from on the floor with his arms casually covering his hard-on.

“...Are you okay, Blaine?”

Blaine nodded again.

“Oh, no! Did you get hit with a suitcase or something!?” The worry in Kurt’s voice was both heartwarming and concerning.

“Can you stand up, I’ll carry you to the car. Mercedes and Sam were nice enough to come pick us up.”

Blaine stood up awkwardly. “You don’t have to carry me, Sir. Please, don’t.”

Blaine saw a flash of hurt cross his face before it was quickly replaced with a tight smile. “Heh heh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Blaine?” Kurt asked over-eagerly, smile still tight and fake.

Blaine said nothing, just briefly smiled back and gestured for Kurt to lead the way. Kurt looked sad and it took a moment for Blaine to register why that was. Their earlier...dispute.

Blaine fell in behind him, used to bowing his head and hiding his face, this time he used it to his advantage in hiding the boner pointing to his Dom.

<><><>

Kurt saw he sub hang his head as Blaine followed behind him. He hated that he made Blaine feel like that. He truly hadn’t meant to call him  _ ‘sweetness’ _ Kurt didn’t even really like that name.

They made their way out of the airport and into the busy L.A. street traffic. He spotted Sam and Mercedes in front of their car. He forced out a laugh as he led the shorter man to his friends. “I can’t believe you guys have a  [ Mercedes,” ](https://www.mbusa.com/content/dam/mb-nafta/us/myco/my20/gla/all-vehicles/2020-GLA250-AMGLINE-SUV-AVP-DR.png) Kurt chuckled.

Sam saw him and waved, laughing with him. “Yeah, we were given it on our anniversary last year. A gift from the office.” Kurt nodded. He watched as Mercedes came up from beside her husband, curious about Blaine.

“This,” Kurt gestured to him, “-is Blaine. He’s the sub I told you about.”

Blaine waved awkwardly. “Hello...I’m Blaine.”

Mercedes walked up to him and took him in a big hug. “Sorry, I’m a hugger,” they both chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you,” she smiled genuinely.

Sam approached him carefully, Kurt knew he had never been around a paid-for-sub, much less an actual slave. “Hi, I’m Sam. But you can call me, wait for it, Sam.” Blaine gave an uncomfortable smile at his weak joke.

They stood in a small circle, staring at each other in awkward silence.

“So…” Kurt, Mercedes, and Sam all said simultaneously.

Blaine looked at the ground again and Kurt sighed. “Blaine...I’m sorry…please, you don’t have to act as a slave with me.”

Mercedes and Sam swapped looks with each other.

“Kurt,” The female switch started. “What do you mean by that?”

He looked at her as if he had forgotten she was there, his eyes wide and frantic, looking for a plausible explanation. “I-I’ll tell you later.”

She nodded.

Sam looked at everyone, feeling the tension thick in the air. “Let’s get home, huh? Mercedes and I can do your checkup at our house, so you won’t have to go to the doctor’s office tomorrow. You can do the checkup with us privately, and we’ll be free to have fun the rest of the...”

“Weekend. I have to be back at work next week, so since today's Friday, we’ll be here until Sunday morning.” Kurt finished for him. He smiled unsurely and Mercedes squeezed his shoulder. “-And thank you, Sam. That’s a great idea. I can’t speak for Blaine, but I’m dead-tired.”

They rode to the happy couple’s house in silence, catching each other’s not-so-sneaky glances every now and then.

_ ‘I’m sorry,’ _ Kurt mouthed, his eyes dull and gray.

Blaine’s eyebrows scrunched together.  _ ‘Don’t be, Sir,’ _ he mouthed back.

Kurt’s lips formed into a tight line, his eyes searching Blaine’s. He didn’t respond, merely looked out the window with a calculative gaze.

“Sir?” Blaine all but whispered to him.

Kurt slowly turned his head around, expecting Blaine to want to  _ ‘service’ _ him again. But to his surprise, the sub moved closer to him. Unbuckling his seatbelt and scooting across to sit in the middle, nestled against Kurt’s side with his head resting on the taller man’s chest.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Sir,” Kurt smiled softly. “I’ll appreciate whatever name you wish to call me.” Kurt’s smile left his face abruptly, but Blaine didn’t see it.

In fairness, Kurt also didn’t see Blaine whisper to himself:  _ ‘More than you know…’ _

<><><>

When they stopped the car and got out, Blaine gasped.  [ Their house was amazing. ](https://ssl.cdn-redfin.com/photo/245/mbphoto/301/genMid.818000301_0.jpg)

“Woah…” Blaine said as he jumped out of the vehicle and into the driveway, getting a breathtaking view at the house.

Mercedes and Sam both laughed. “Yeah, working as doctors definitely has its advantages, money being one of them,” winked Sam.

Mercedes snorted and elbowed him gently. “Now, Sam. We’ve talked about bragging,” she said in a playful scolding tone.

But Kurt knew that she was proud of it, of their life. And she should be. Kurt knew all about their struggles; from being homeless to deciding if they really wanted to quit their dreams. In the end Mercedes said that she’d be happier knowing that she and her husband were comfortable, despite Sam’s disagreements. Sam wanted his wife to chase after her dreams. Kurt personally thought it was because of her worries for Sam once again being homeless, which was kind of contradicting, but he made sure to support them no matter what they chose.

“I’ve got to admit,” Mercedes said proudly. “This doctoring job has grown on me. Especially the special perks.” At this she looked from her house to her car and back again.

Blaine did as well, still shocked these people were so accommodating for a slave, former or not.

“Do you have your bags?” She asked.

Kurt nodded.

“Okay, um, Blaine?” Sam asked warily.

“Yes, Mr. Sam?”

Before Sam could answer or Kurt could interject, Mercedes pulled him aside. “I’ll talk to Blaine. Sam, can you show Kurt to his room?”

Sam nodded and led Kurt into the impressive house. He looked back every now and then at his sub, not entirely sure he should leave him alone with someone, who even though was his friend, Blaine didn’t know.

“Chill, boo. I’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” said Mercedes when she noticed his hesitance.

Kurt nodded and finally followed Sam, letting himself be led to a guest room.

“Is something wrong, Mrs. Mercedes?” Asked Blaine worriedly.

Mercedes shook her head no. “Please, just call me Mercedes.”

Blaine nodded doubtfully, he figured he should just avoid addressing her and instead call for his owner or even the male switch.

“Are you okay? Are you safe, you know, with Kurt?”

Blaine pulled his arm from her grasp, shocked, “Of course I am. Sir is kind to me.”

Mercedes shook her head, her dark hair waving out from the frame of her face. “No, I know that Kurt isn’t like that. I just mean...Look, after the Rachel incident everyone has been kind of wary of each other. No one likes the distrust, but we know now to be more careful. Kurt is nice, yes, but are. you. safe?”

Blaine nodded jerkily. “Sir doesn’t ask much of me. He’s constantly reminding me that I don’t have to act as a slave or do anything sexual.” The last part Blaine had curled in on himself for, feeling his body yearn for a touch from his owner.

“Ah,” Mercedes said, finally understanding. “That’s the problem, isn't it? He’s not giving you what your body needs?”

Blaine nodded self consciously.

“You should tell him. I know how it is to have urges you don’t want to talk about. It took me a long time to realize I was a switch. When Sam and I first started dating I ignored a part of myself because I didn't want to deny him of a Dom, but then he told me that he sometimes needs to dominate someone too. After we talked it through, everything was a lot better. You need to tell Kurt.”

Blaine nodded but a tear threatened to fall. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Yes, but...Sir and I aren’t dating. He only bought me so I wouldn’t be put down, not because he felt a ‘connection’ with me. I’m not special enough to catch his eye.”

“I’m sure that’s not true-”

“The only reason I want him is because my body needs him. I just want to have a  _ friend, _ for once.”

Mercedes looked at him in pity. Blaine didn’t really like that kind of look, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“Does Kurt know you consider him a friend? Because from what I could tell: You only call him Sir, you never not act like his slave, and you don’t look particularly happy.”

Blaine gulped. “You could tell all that?”

“Doctor instincts, I suppose,” she answered. “Let’s go inside now, I’m 99% sure Kurt is bouncing around, anxious about leaving me to talk to you.”

“But Sir trusts you.”

“Yes, but I also know all about his embarrassing high school stories.”

Blaine grinned sheepishly. “Do you now?”

Mercedes chuckled. “Has he told you about the first time he got drunk, and then puked on the guidance counselor's shoes after calling her Bambi?”

Blaine let out a chuckle, feeling better after his talk with the woman.

<><><>

Sam watched the Dom as he paced around the guest room. He was muttering something under his breath the same way that Sam always saw him do in high school, when he was extremely stressed about something.

“Kurt?”

Kurt jumped. “Sam! Don’t fucking do that!”

Sam flinched at the Dom’s loose use of power.

“Yes, Sir- _ Kurt,” _ he had to force himself to say.

Kurt looked up at him, he pieced together exactly what he almost said and sighed. He dropped down onto the bed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine, I know what unattended hormones can do. But it seems like you’re apologizing a lot today.”

Kurt sighed. “Yeah, I sort of messed up with Blaine.”

Sam made a noise of question and inquired for him to go on.

“I called him  _ ‘sweetness’ _ at the airport. It was an accident, I swear. He hugged me and I haven’t gotten laid in so long and he smelled so good and I shouldn’t let myself lose control like that, something bad could happen and-”

“Kurt, Kurt, calm down. What’s the matter? I haven’t seen you ramble like that since your NYADA audition.”

Kurt huffed, “I keep doing that, too. Last time Isabelle had to stop me on the phone.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I could feel Blaine’s uneasy sub hormones as well as yours.”

Kurt snapped his gaze from the floor to the shaggy blonde in a matter of half-seconds.

“What? You can feel that?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, since I’m a switch I can sense those specific feelings.”

Kurt looked beyond confused, he had never thought about what switches can sense, or frankly, what Doms and subs can sense.

Sam saw his look of confusion and tried to explain it better. “As a switch, I can feel dangerous Doms and...well, the best way I can put it is... _ horny _ ...subs.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows so high Sam thought they reached on the top of his head.

“When a Dom doesn’t get what he needs he gets violent or angry, hostile. When a sub doesn’t get what he needs, he becomes incredibly emotional, one of the strongest emotions is being horny and in need of sex. Another, however, is sadness and a feeling of betrayal. I could feel those conflicting emotions practically radiating off Blaine. I’d be willing to bet that he underwent something related to that and that’s why he’s acting like he is.”

Kurt considered this.

“Do you have his papers? That might help.”

Kurt shook his head, “I should get them today. I was planning on printing them once they came.”

“Why don’t you have them yet?”

“He was illegal. He even had to go in the cargo area for the plane ride.”

“Did you do anyth-”

“Oh, you better fucking believe I tried! I yelled at more people there than I ever did in Glee. It was fucking cruel to make Blaine be down there. They even tried to make me wait to get his papers in person, back in New York. I told them I could print it if they sent them to me and they agreed, after a hellish amount of time.”

Kurt was seething.

Sam put a reassuring hand on his back. “At least you’ll get to be together for the ride home, right?”

Kurt nodded, downcast.

“Let’s go downstairs, huh? I’m sure Mercedes is done talking to him by now.”

Kurt bounced up off the bed and down the stairs before Sam could even finish. The blonde switch followed after him eagerly.


	7. Chapter Seven

Kurt and Blaine locked eyes from across the room.

Mercedes and Sam stood awkwardly as the two made dramatics. “Should we get dinner? It’s on us? Sam and I know a great place just north of here. We’re friends with the couple who own it,” said Mercedes.

Kurt was the first to snap out of his daze, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Mercedes took Blaine’s arm and dragged him out, Kurt following behind with Sam.

“So what's so great about the... restaurant?...Is it a restaurant?”

Sam laughed, “It’s a bar and diner. The couple who owns it are a little frightening if you don’t know them well. The man even had a mohawk when we met him.” Mercedes chuckled with him amusedly.

All the while, Kurt and Blaine laughed along uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.

The switches noticed and turned their conversation around politely, “Kurt, you want to sing a little? We have the Wicked soundtrack…” She sang-song.

Kurt glared. “I don’t sing anymore, ‘Cedes, you know that.”

“But,” she countered, “-Blainey does.”

Kurt turned to him with accusing, albeit amused, eyes. “You do?”

Blaine nodded sheepishly, “Yes, Sir. One of my former Maste-er... _ owners _ encouraged my prefered habit of singing. I dance too, but not as well.”

Kurt took it in for a moment. “Who was your old owner?”

Kurt made sure to say owner, not Master. Kurt was this beautiful sub’s Master now, not that bastard!...Kurt faced down the roar of jealousy that was trying to rear its head.  _ No. You’re his legal Dom, but nothing more. _

Before Blaine could answer though, Mercedes had announced their arrival and jumped out, pulling Blaine out with her not long after.

“Here it is, in all its glory,” she said, waving her hand at the building. “Puckzizes’ Diner and Bar.”

“Puckzizes?” Kurt asked, thoroughly confused.

“It’s a combination of their names. Noah Puckerman, and Lauren Zizes.”

“Aah.” Clicked Kurt in understanding, following the switches inside.

[ The inside of the diner was amazing. ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/57/0b/46/570b4648058c28c860378bf01d5d4fdf.jpg) It was modern, yet had a bit of a rustic feel to it. It made you feel at home regardless of where you came from. Kurt decided he liked it.

A blonde waitress came up and asked how many were with their group. “Four adults.” He heard Sam answer. She seated them at a table in the corner, Sam and Kurt on one side, Blaine and Mercedes on the other. The Dom and sub were facing each other, the switches mirroring them on the other side.

Kurt watched as Blaine looked out the window, and he realized Blaine was avoiding talking to him. Hell, he was avoiding even looking at him.

The waitress bounced back over and handed them each a menu.

Kurt flipped through it absently, he already knew what he wanted. Blaine seemed entranced by the items and read each page vigilantly. “Am I allowed to pick something for myself, Sir?”

Kurt saw Mercedes and Sam swap a look, but he focused on Blaine. “Yes. Pick whatever you like.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Blaine looked back down at the menu.

Kurt watched his wide hazel eyes that reminded him so much of a puppy graze over and across the menu items. And he watched his mouth, which must’ve been watering considering the number of times he licked his pink lips.

The sub’s lips were truly so...kissable...devourable…

Kurt shook his head. He’d have to buy himself some more Dom hormone control pills. He wondered if they had an equivalent pill for subs.

Once the waitress came back they all ordered. They chatted for a while. About anything and everything in a mind numbing sense. Blaine stayed silent throughout all of it, despite their multitude of efforts to try to include him. Instead, he found fascination in stirring his straw around the Diet Coke Kurt ordered for him - It was Kurt’s preferred drink so he figured Blaine might like it - the dark liquid sloshed around by the practiced movement of the clear, plastic straw.

Blaine had ordered a simple cheeseburger with fries. Sam had as well, except he had made his a large and got a Mountain Dew while Blaine kept his average sized. Kurt ordered a BLT with his own Diet Coke, and Mercedes had a chicken strip meal with Dr. Pepper.

They ate peacefully, awkwardly, too.

Near the end of their meal, Kurt heard the familiar ping of a notification come from his phone. He stood up suddenly when he read it.

“What!? What!?” Sam asked muffled, mouth still around his humongous burger.

“They finally sent me Blaine’s papers,” he turned to Blaine. “We can ride on the plane together now, you don’t have to go to that damn cargo area,” he told Blaine, still a little angry.

“That’s great, Sir,” said Blaine flatly.

Kurt stared in some kind of awe. “Was that sarcasm?” Kurt asked, not upset, but curious.

Blaine clearly didn’t realize that as he immediately started closing in on himself. “No. No, Sir. I apologize for my insolence. I also plead that you don’t cane me, Sir. I can take any punishment but a caning, please Sir.” He begged and knelt down before Kurt, once again lost in uncontrollable hormones, horrible memories, and awful thoughts that only led to the worst.

“Blaine, you’re not being punished. I was just playing. You can stand up.” Blaine obeyed, but kept his head down.

Mercedes watched the transaction closely, the wheels turning in her head. Sam, on the other hand, was too distracted by his food to pay any attention to them.

“Is everything going okay here?” Asked the little blonde waitress, an intimidating man and woman standing a few steps behind her.

The large woman crossed her arms and studied the interaction, the man looked concerned but stayed on her side.

“Yes,” Kurt said, wrapping his arms around Blaine who shook even in the miniscule amount. “We’re sorry to have caused a scene. This is my sub, he was…”

Kurt trailed off, not sure whether or not it’d be smart to tell strangers of Blaine’s past. He looked to Mercedes for help, she nodded once she understood what he needed.  _ ‘They’re anti-slave law. They save slaves, too.’ _ He saw her mouth.

“He was a slave, but I bought him to prevent his...untimely...passing away...”

The waitress looked confused, but the menacing couple dismissed her before she could ask many questions. They walked up to him dauntingly. Kurt stood tall against their inspection. Blaine, however, lowered his head and folded his hands together nervously, his knuckles cracked of their own volition.

“So he was going to be put down, I take it?” She finally spoke.

Kurt nodded in earnest.

She turned to Blaine, “And you, honey? Are you okay?” Blaine snapped his head up, nodding sharply. “And you’re sure?” She got the same response as before.

After moments of silence, the woman clapped her hands and waved them around, clearly excited for new people. “Well, all are welcome here! Feel free to get anything, friends of those two are friends of ours!”

Kurt suddenly noticed that the man had peeled away to talk to Mercedes and Sam, while the woman had been subtly interrogating him.

_ Interesting, _ he thought.

“We should actually be getting home. Jet lag, plus it's getting rather dark.” Blaine nodded next to him, anxious to get back and sleep.

“Are you sure? Don’t tell me I’ve scared you away now? I may look scary, but I don’t bite...hard,” She teased. “I’m Lauren. And this,” She put her arm around the man’s shoulders. “-Is my husband, Noah.”

“You can call me Puck.” He exclaimed, putting his hand out for them to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, but I assure you you haven’t scared us away. Hell, we’ll probably be back tomorrow for breakfast. But at the moment we’re really fucking exhausted. Pardon my french.”

They laughed and nodded, finally understanding. “Alright, we’ll let you go. But you seem like good people so don’t stay strangers, huh?” Puck said.

“Deal.” Kurt finalled.

He led Blaine to the table. “I’m going to tell Mercedes and Sam that we’re leaving. I called an Uber. It should be here in about 20 or so minutes. You can do whatever, but I think Lauren wants to talk to you.” Blaine nodded.

He walked over to his friends. “Hey, ‘Cedes? We’re gonna bounce. I called us an Uber so you don’t have to drive us.”

She looked a little guilty but otherwise understanding. “Okay, you guys get some rest. Jet lag can be a bitch.” They laughed and the Dom turned, looking for the curly-haired sub.

“Sir?” Kurt heard a whine from behind him. “Can we go back to the pretty house, Sir?”

Lauren walked beside him with an empty bottle of whiskey.

“Oh my Gaga, Lauren! Did you get him drunk? In what, the 10 minutes I had my back turned?”

“Nah,” she chuckled. “It was more like 15.”

“How is that even possible?” He asked incredulously.

She nodded almost proudly. “Poor kid had never tasted alcohol before. I figured I’d introduce him to it.”

He glared at her but she merely laughed. “He’ll be fine. I can tell you won’t take advantage of him, you’re a good person.”

“And how do you know that?” He challenged.

“Let’s just say I have good instincts.”

Kurt nodded thoughtfully.

Finally, he and the sub left, still not sober.

“Where to?” The Uber driver asked.

“Oh.” Kurt said. “Sorry, I thought I put the address in already.”

“You did, but I like to check with people to make sure.”

Kurt nodded. “Well, do you know any drug stores nearby? I have to get some Dom hormone control pills. Oh, and do you know if there’s an equivalent pill like that but for subs?”

The driver nodded. “Yeah, same packaging but instead of navy-blue it’s like, lavender-gray. Dominant and recessive colors and all that. So drugstore?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay is that all?”

“Um, after that can you drive me to the address I gave you? It’s a big house with a black fence. You can’t miss it.”

The driver nodded again.

They took off and soon they were home.

<><><>

“Blaine, I need you to take this pill. Can you do that for me?” The taller man asked when they got inside.

Blaine was a little tipsy from the heavy drinks Lauren snuck him when Kurt wasn’t looking. “Of course, anything you say, Sir,” he tried to purr at him sultrily, instead he only succeeded in looking extremely wasted.

“You’re so nice to me, Sir. So gentle…”

Kurt watched him sway and laid him in his bed, setting an aspirin and a water on the table next to him.

“You’re not going to like it when morning comes. First hangovers suck.”

“You know, Mercedes told me about your first time getting drunk. How you puked on Bambi. I laughed a lot. But that’s not okay, I shouldn’t laugh at Sir.”

Kurt smiled. “You can always laugh at me, Blaine. I’m very comedic.” The second part he said haughtily and Blaine laughed more, surprising himself when he burped. He had comically wide eyes and a hand covering his mouth. Kurt laughed a little as well.

“So, are you all set?” Blaine nodded.

“Can you stay with me, Sir?”

“Blaine, you don’t really want that. It’s just your sub hormones. Once that pill kicks in you’ll be better without me.”

The shorter man pouted at the Dom. “Please, Sir?”

Kurt gave in and slid in beside him. “Only until you fall asleep, then I’m leaving.”

Blaine nodded and nuzzled into Dom's chest. He drifted off quickly, the jet lag, alcohol, and general exhaustion finally catching up with him.

<><><>

When Blaine woke, he was alone with nothing but a pounding headache and an unfamiliar void in his chest. He no longer felt an urge for his Dom’s touch, but an unorthodox ache in its place.

“Oowww…” Blaine groaned aloud in the empty guest room.

He saw a pill and a bottle of water on the nightstand and swallowed it quickly, thinking Kurt intended for him to do so.

The short man hobbled out of bed, shoes and jacket taken off but otherwise still  [ fully clothed ](https://cdn2.wornon.tv/tiles/brooks-brothers-fun-stripe-sweater-navy-multi-darren-criss-glee.jpg) from the night before. This time Kurt had leant him a multicolored striped sweatshirt. And to go with it, a pair of bright red jeans. The Dom still hadn’t been able to take him shopping just yet, but the sub was still terribly grateful for even the thought.

Blaine went straight for the window to shut the curtains, the bright L.A. sunlight streaming in hurt his head immensely. Whilst doing so, he ended up puking a few times in the empty trashcan that sat next to the window, for whatever reasons.

“Shit…” He muttered, “Kurt won’t like that…”

The sub cleaned himself up in the shower he risked taking advantage of, and finally left the safe space of his temporary room.

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen. When he got there he found his owner by himself on his laptop, typing away with a mug of coffee next to him.

“Sir?”

Kurt jumped.  _ Again. _ “Oh! Blaine, please? Quit doing that?”

Blaine winced at the Dom’s shriek. He had a feeling that whatever this was that he was undergoing, it was because of Lauren and the delicious burning liquid she brought out for him.

His head spun for a minute as he nodded bashfully.

“I’m sorry, again, Sir. I was just wondering what exactly happened last night. I remember the majority, at least, before Miss Lauren gave me that whiskey.”

Kurt chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re not alone in that. I think I’m the only one lucky enough to not be nursing a hangover,” Kurt chuckled, taking a sip of his caramel-colored-coffee.

“There’s blueberry-lemon pancakes and orange juice on the table, it was always Mercedes’ and Sam’s favorite hangover cure. I also made some fresh pressed coffee though, if you’d like some of that instead.”

Blaine nodded and looked at the pile of pancakes that stood on the table longingly.

Kurt noticed. “Help yourself, Blaine. I made them for everyone, figured you three would want some comfort food. Especially you, as I said last night, though you probably don’t remember,” Kurt muttered under his breath, amused. “-First hangovers suck.”

Blaine went straight for the pancakes, a bold move for him, and gorged himself.

Kurt laughed. “There’s butter and syrup, too.”

Before he could even finish, Blaine was thanking him and opening the fridge door to hunt for the wonderful things he was sure would compliment the pancakes.

“So...how are you feeling? Is that hormone control pill working?”

Blaine looked up at him in confusion. “Hormone control pill?”

Kurt nodded slowly. “Oh, right. You probably don’t remember. Well, last night I gave you a special pill. It’s supposed to dampen your sub instincts. Make you less...um...well, you know...horny...”

Both Kurt and Blaine were a deep shade of crimson. Kurt, for obvious reasons, given the conversation that was taking place. And Blaine, because he wasn’t aware Kurt knew of that...distinct...sub...information.

“You knew about the dream, Sir?”

Kurt looked at him, both Dom and sub still a dark red.

“Dream?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Yeah...Um, wow. These pancakes are amazing, Sir. How, if I may ask, did you make them?” Blaine tried to change the subject. The air around them was thick with awkward tension and he desperately longed for that to go away.

Kurt, however, seemed set on the opposite.

“What dream, Blaine?” He asked curiously, not wanting to let it go the way Blaine did.

Blaine made no move to answer, something he wasn’t quite sure he would or wouldn't be punished over.

“Blaine?”

Blaine met his gaze shyly. “...I had an...explicit...dream about you, Sir. I didn’t mean to, I promise. I would never demean your kindness like that on purpose. But I was just really lonely and dejected and...I don’t know…I’m truly sorry, Sir…” He locked eyes with Kurt, honest hazel meeting concerned glasz.

“It’s alright, Blaine. Really.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Kurt wiped a stray tear from Blaine’s rosy cheek, letting his hand linger longer than he probably should have. He stared deeply into Blaine’s beautiful dark eyes, framed by long, thick lashes. They lured him in like a moth to a flame.

He didn’t understand why he still felt this longing to the former-slave, he had taken the hormone control pill. So, why did he feel a yearning for this sub?

“Sir?” Blaine asked the taller man, who seemed to be in a trance.

Kurt suddenly took his hand away as if he had been burned. “Yes, Blaine?” He asked, his back now facing the curly haired sub.

“I...nevermind, Sir.”

Kurt nodded mutely.

Blaine merely nibbled on his pancakes now, confused at the complicated array of emotions previously portrayed on the Dom’s face. His Dom kept his emotions hidden so well, like a true porcelain statue. As if he were made to be what others personally wanted to interpret in their own way.

“Ooh, Kurt! Are those your famous blueberry-lemon pancakes I smell?” Mercedes asked through a hand-covered-yawn as she walked into the kitchen, Sam following closely behind.

Kurt saw Blaine visibly swallow when Sam walked in without a shirt.

Stupid fucking abs.

He hated that he felt jealous of the attention Sam wasn’t even aware he was getting.

Mercedes was wearing tasteful silk pajamas, Sam being entirely different from her casual but covered look.  [ He wore ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4f/d1/0d/4fd10dc160492063393b76f8f2a04940.jpg) a pair of loose fitting pants low on his hips, revealing the beginning of his perfect navel.

“Damn, Blaine. You really like syrup, huh?” Sam teased playfully, apparently unaware of Blaine’s attraction toward him.

The sub was beginning to pinken once more.

“Yes, Sir, I do,” the former-slave told  _ Sam. _

Kurt suddenly saw red. Sam being the unfortunate target for his misdirected anger.

Sam looked at Kurt apologetically, ready to defend himself. But Kurt merely held his hand up, effectively silencing him.

“Blaine,” he commanded.

Blaine turned to him, blissfully ignorant to the death stare Kurt had given Sam. For now, that is.

“Ye-”

_ “I _ am your owner. You do not call other men Sir, or women either for that matter.”

Blaine seemed to finally realize his mistake. “I-I-I’m s-sorry, Sir. I truly didn’t m-mean to,” he babbled aimlessly at the stoic Dom.

“It’s okay, Blaine. I understand. You won’t be punished, but I am telling you now: I am your owner.” Blaine nodded earnestly. “You don't have to think of me as your personal Dom, but if you were to make a mistake like that in public, you could get taken away from me and sold again. Do you understand?”

Blaine nodded.

“Words, please?” Kurt stiffly asked, trying to ignore the flames of jealousy he felt burning him from the inside out.

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“Good. Now,” he turned to the switches.

Sam looked incredibly guilt ridden, Kurt felt sorry for him but knew that he couldn’t help him. His wife, and sometimes Dom, would be the only one to be able to help him through the guilt he may or may not feel.

“-where is the printer? I’m going to finally print Blaine’s papers and we can do that whole ordeal a lot sooner than we thought.”

Mercedes pointed behind her. “There’s one in my office. It’s across the hall from our bedroom, but be careful of the black door.”

“Why? What’s behind the black door?” He asked her curiously.

She smirked. “It’s our playroom.”

Kurt chuckled, albeit a little red faced. “Okay, thank you. I’ll go print them off then.”

The tall man walked away but popped his head back in only a few minutes later. “How about before dinner we go to the office and get Blaine’s prescription?”

They considered it for a moment, then nodded in agreement, “Sure. We can ask the office if they can get ready for us.”

Sam took out his phone readily. “I’ll call them now.”


	8. Chapter Eight

They got to the doctor’s office quicker than expected.

Blaine was nervous, to say the least. His grip on Kurt’s arm was beginning to be painful for the Dom, his nails were starting to draw blood in Kurt’s pale skin.

“Blaine?” He questioned.

“Yes, Sir?” Blaine asked, dazed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Blaine tore his gaze from where he was looking out the window, and turned to the genuinely concerned Dom. “...I’ve never been in a doctor’s office before.”

“Really? Not once?”

The sub shook his head, though he stopped momentarily. “Before I was taken I had, but not since I’ve been a slave.”

Kurt grew more worried with each passing word. “You were _taken?”_

Blaine looked out the window again. “It’s not how you think, I wasn’t kidnapped or anything. But, yes.” He replied, ridiculously calm. Dark. Empty.

“How...How old were you, Blaine?” He reached his hand out slowly, to give the shorter man an option to pull away. When Blaine made no move to pull away, he laid it on the sub’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

“Ten. I was ten years old. My brother, Cooper, was eighteen...I think.”

Kurt froze at that. “You _think?”_

Blaine glared furiously, “Look, I'm sorry but it was over a decade ago. I can't remember every little detail… _Sir,”_ the sub had uncharacteristically snapped at the taller man, but had quickly covered it up with a _Sir._ Kurt was beginning to really hate that word.

“How old are you now, Blaine?” He asked tentatively.

“About 24, Sir,” answered Blaine.

Kurt internally exhaled a breath of relief. “That’s good, I’m 26, only two years older than you.”

“Yes, Sir,” answered Blaine, unsure of how the Dom wanted him to react.

They sat quietly for the remainder of the drive. Kurt snuck worried glances at the former-slave. He no longer looked nervous, but rather, hopeless. It was a look Kurt hated with all his heart.

<><><>

When they arrived, Mercedes and Sam went to their usual offices. Before she left though, the dark-skinned woman had given the two a form to fill out, with the regularly required signature from the Dom and thumbprint from the sub. Kurt found it demeaning that subs didn’t always have to give written consent, Blaine, however, treated it like normal.

_‘That's because it is normal for him.’_ A small, guilty voice told him in the back of his mind.

Blaine watched over his shoulder as Kurt held the pen and clipboard. “Alright, I’m going to be needing your help for most of these questions and some of them are horrible, but on the bright side this will give a chance to learn more about you,” Kurt smiled at him.

“Whatever you say, Sir,” Blaine replied tiredly.

“Okay...full name?”

“Blaine Devon Anderson.”

Kurt grinned, “That’s perfect for you.”

Blaine wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He didn’t like all this positive attention, he wasn’t used to it. “Thank you, Sir,” he finally replied meekly.

“Any previous health conditions?” -Came the second question.

“Not that I know of.” Kurt nodded and checked the _‘Possibly’_ box.

“Family? Emergency contacts?”

“I haven’t seen my family in a while, Sir. And you’re probably the only emergency contact I have.” Kurt frowned, nonetheless, he filled everything in accordingly.

“...Okay so I have my part of this filled out already, and aside from the date nothing seems to be empty…”

“Yes, Sir. Would you like me to hand this in?” Kurt nibbled on his lip. “Yeah, you can do that, Blaine.” Blaine did and quickly returned.

They stayed in the otherwise empty waiting room for only a little while, as they were soon called: “Blaine Anderson?”

Kurt chuckled at the formal tone of Sam’s voice, Sam following suit.

“Okay, Blaine, could you step up on [ this scale ](https://static.turbosquid.com/Preview/2014/05/19__02_19_32/scale_01.jpg299a7e3d-5c81-496d-8cf3-84ab9f1a5d2eZoom.jpg) for me please?” Blaine toed off his [ bright red shoes ](https://media.giphy.com/media/8fvpzIg44aHVm/giphy.gif) and stepped up.

Sam winced at the number the scale set uon. “Um, you’re about 30 lbs underweight. That’s not great, dude.”

“How much does he weigh?” Kurt asked instinctively, hating said instinct.

“Around 120,” Sam exclaimed. “He should weigh like 150 or 160.” Kurt nodded solemnly.

“And you’re 5’8,” Sam smiled and teased, “That’s kinda short but not a sign of anything seriously bad.” Blaine blushed despite himself. Kurt grew angry and stiffened though he said nothing.

_‘He is not your sub, you own him but he doesn't belong to you, not really.’_ Kurt reminded himself furiously. _‘Don’t do something you'll regret.’_

“Right through this hallway on the door to your right is ‘Cedes usual exam room. If you wait in there she should be there soon.”

The two men nodded and made their way to the examination room. Blaine obediently sat down on [ the exam table, ](https://www.acesconnection.com/fileSendAction/fcType/0/fcOid/476303634581995089/primaryPicture/true/fodoid/476303634581995094/imageType/LARGE/inlineImage/true/doctors_office_exam_table.jpg) the paper crinkling underneath him and causing him to cringe.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Blaine?”

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat. “...Is this so I can serve you better?” Blaine whispered to the Dom, anxiety and slight fear in his voice.

“Blaine-” Kurt interjected, already prepared to convince him he wasn’t as Blaine thought him as.

“Please, Sir?” He pleaded.

“...Go on,” Kurt exhaled.

“I understand that you aren’t like _‘that’_ as you keep saying, but please, be honest with me? Is this a set-up?”

Kurt swallowed down a speech he yearned to share and instead spoke frankly, “No. I don’t need you to submit to me. I know that legally, you cannot be free, but for as long as I own you, you can act as you feel.”

Blaine nodded and spoke softly, “Yes, Sir.” But Kurt didn’t believe the wary sub. “Blaine, tell me how you really feel, please?”

Blaine didn’t look up, not even a quick glance. “If you are truly as you say, Sir...please, don’t make me tell you something I don't feel comfortable telling you...I’m sorry, but please, Sir…” Kurt nodded. “You’re right, I won’t put you in a position like that.”

They quietly stared for some time, lost in each other’s eyes. Which is why when Mercedes entered the two men jumped, thoroughly started.

“So,” she started, oblivious to the intimate moment they had shared mere minutes ago. “-This shouldn’t take long, I just need a blood and urine sample then we can clarify the std. Once we get the definite note on Chlamydia, I can write you a prescription and everything will be done. Got it?”

They agreed and Blaine let her take the samples efficiently and without any embarrassment or hesitation. 

She left and returned promptly, paper in hand. “Okay, give this to Kitty. She’s the secretary up front,” instructed Mercedes, handing them the paper for Blaine’s pills.

Once everything was finished and Blaine had his pills, Sam suggested they return to Puck and Lauren’s for lunch. After 

collecting everyone’s agreements, they left for the intimidating couple’s cozy diner.

<><><>

When they arrived at Puckzizes, the diner was empty aside from one drunkard at the bar. She was rambling aimlessly at the bartender, who was wiping down the counter and providing murmurs of agreement every now and then. “Hey, Puck, right?” Kurt called out to him. The bartender spotted him and nodded mutely, offering him a grin to which Kurt replied with his own.

“Don’t mind that he doesn’t seem all that excited to see you. He likes to give the regulars advice,” Lauren said from behind them, a small smile on her face. She looked almost tender for a second, her eyes soft as she watched him. But her grin crossed her face instead of a smile and she suddenly looked much fiercer than before.

Kurt noticed Mercedes and Sam had left. They were now at the bar with Puck and the drunk lady, laughing at her slurred stories.

It was just Kurt, Blaine, and the intimidating woman in front of them, staring at each other awkwardly in the diner.

“If you don’t mind me asking?” Blaine blurted from his owner’s side, breaking the quiet. Lauren gave him a silent head bob as a sign to go on. He did. “I don’t mean to intrude or anything, I was just curious; Are you or Mister Puck the submissive?”

Lauren clicked her tongue and nodded thoughtfully. “We’re both Doms, actually.” She explained. Blaine made a confused, not disgusted or angry, merely confused face. Seeing it, Lauren further explained, “Puck and I met in college, well, _I_ was in college, he just banged the girls who went there. When we met, he wanted to hook up with my bestie. I agreed to give him her number for 7 minutes in heaven.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed. “I know, super middle-school but he _was_ the pool boy.” They all laughed and she continued. “Anyway, it turns out he was overrated, in my opinion. I rejected him and cut our 7 minutes short. He was baffled and ended up following me around like a lost puppy until I agreed to go out with him.”

Kurt saw Blaine smile out of the corner of his eye, the Dom hoped it was a real smile and not one meant to fool him.

“I eventually agreed to go out with him, but on the first date we realized we were both Doms. I told him I didn’t think it was going to work, but he wanted to keep trying. It was sweet, nobody had ever done anything like that for me.”

Kurt let out a sigh of contentment, his inner romantic coming out for a fleeting moment before straightening his back and marking a blank look over his dreamy smile.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I got dick like the plague, but he was trying to quite literally defy nature’s instincts for me. It shocked me and I agreed.”

Kurt snorted at that.

However, Blaine said, “That sounds lovely.”

“But after a year or so, our instincts started taking over, the pill was starting to stop working and we always went to bed angry. We were fighting over anything and everything. I cheated on him and we broke up for a little while.” Lauren frowned at Blaine’s heartbroken face.

Kurt noticed that his expression was tight, the lie obvious in his eyes. _You, Blaine Anderson, are quite the actor,_ Kurt mused to himself.

“Then, after about 3 months, we went back for each other. We talked everything over and agreed that we could be together despite our both being Doms. We wrote out a contract containing the rules and had a mutual agreement for an open relationship.” Blaine let out a swoon and fanned his face over-dramatically. Lauren beamed, oblivious to his lying.

“We love each other very much. We may have to control our instincts every now and then, but we know that we belong to each other. We got married about a year ago and we've been happy ever since.” She exhaled and let herself be seen for a moment. It was clear she felt comfortable around Blaine, with Kurt however, it wasn’t as clear. She glanced from the sub to him and crossed her arms again, as if it was her natural defense position with fellow Doms.

“So yeah, that’s my story. What about you, kid?” She asked Blaine. “Got a tragic backstory you’re willing to share?” All the color in Blaine’s face drained. He became pale as a ghost, shaking in such a tiny amount that not even Lauren seemed able to notice his discomfort. “No ma’am.” He slapped on a tight smile that Kurt could almost believe. _Almost._ “I’m sorry, Miss Lauren, but I’m all good.” She laughed bitterly and patted his back. “Nobody’s _‘all good’_ , Blaine.”

Lauren squeezed Blaine’s shoulder and left for the bar, leaving the Dom and sub alone.

“Why did you lie to her?” blurted Kurt. Blaine’s eyes went wide. Kurt could see all the pain and confusion warped in his deep, hazel eyes. You can’t hide anything with eyes like that.

“I didn’t”

“Don’t even try it,” Kurt commanded, not acknowledging the fact that it was the first true order he had given the sub. “I may not have spent more than a few days with you, but I can easily tell that you weren’t telling her the truth.”

Blaine shook his head. “I can’t share anything about myself. Not in front of a Dom, and certainly not _to_ a Dom.”

“Why?” Kurt asked, gentler than before.

“...Because when a Dom sees your weaknesses, they manipulate it.” He responded coldly, his eyes showing he knew from experience.

“Who hurt you?” pleaded Kurt, desperate to help the poor sub. Blaine avoided his eyes, instead preferring to glare at the floor below him. When Kurt didn’t get an answer in more than a few minutes, he gave up, for now. He realized that Blaine would tell him when he was ready, if he ever was, that is.

“...We should probably join the others.” He stated. Blaine nodded and made his way back to the group.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose again, sighing. He wasn’t getting through to the former-slave. Nothing he did made anything better. He groaned into his clasped hands and reluctantly walked back towards the group, plastering on a fake smile and hoping he could get through the day without setting himself on fire.


	9. Chapter Nine

Blaine tried to ignore his owner’s obvious discomfort, but he couldn’t shake the feeling it was his fault...because it _was_ his fault, he knew.

But he just _could not_ trust him. That would be too big of a risk. Kurt was a Dom, _his_ Dom. He could overpower Blaine whenever he wanted. It was scary

...Still, he could feel the ever familiar urge to help his owner. Sure, the pills were dulling it, but Blaine was a slave; the need to submit was higher than an average submissive.

To put it simply, it was a toxic addiction, and Blaine was undergoing the withdrawals.

Blaine tried to clear his head and turn his attention back to the conversation but it was all mind-numbing and uninteresting. He couldn’t focus on anything they were saying. Instead, he stiffened, feeling only the burning gaze of his owner on his back. Puck, Lauren, Sam, and Mercedes were chattering away, perfectly ignorant and content in their lives. While Blaine, not two feet away from them, was valiantly fighting a battle with himself.

The curly-haired man wanted to trust Kurt - _God, he really did_ \- but he couldn’t bring himself to. Kurt was the type of man Blaine would fall for…But what if he got in too deep? That was Blaine’s worse fear: falling for a Dom who didn’t want him. Like some sort of sick Stockholm syndrome.

“-about, Blaine?” asked Mercedes, interrupting his thoughts. “Yes, Miss Mercedes?” He responded, startled. “I asked what you were thinking about?” She repeated, chuckling a little. “Oh, right...I’m sorry Miss Mercedes. I wasn’t really thinking about much of anything,” he blushed dark red as he lied.

“Is that right?” She mused. He urged his face to cool down as he nodded, never looking at Kurt. “Yes, ma’am.” She smirked, the knowledge of his lie clear on her face. “Whatever you say, boo.”

Blaine looked back at his plate. He hunched over and choked down his chicken strips, hoping to leave the large number of people soon. Blaine had never been good with groups, especially after the gang rapes he suffered.

“Sir?” He turned to Kurt for the first time since his horrible admission, or, since his moment of weakness. Kurt ogled him, surprised that Blaine had been the one to break their mutual silent treatments. “Yes, Blaine?” He asked, finding his voice.

“Could we...I don’t mean to be rude, but can we go back to Miss Mercedes and Mister Sam’s house, Sir?” Kurt furrowed his brows. “Okay...But would you tell me why?” Blaine nibbled on his bottom lip, an action that momentarily paused Kurt. “...I have a little social anxiety, I suppose…” Kurt watched him fidget uncomfortably. “Yeah, we can leave if you’d like.”

The Dom turned back to the group, “I hate to leave you all again, but Blai- _we_ need to go.”

Puck and Lauren flashed their knowing smiles, happy that Kurt was so patient with the former-slave. Especially Luaren, who cared deeply about submissive rights. Mercedes and Sam grinned and playfully gestured for them to ‘shoo’.

Kurt chuckled and let Blaine lead their way out of the restaurant. They settled in the car quickly, Kurt driving with Blaine in the passenger’s seat beside him.

“Hrmgh…” Kurt groaned as he purposely banged his head on the steering wheel.

“Are you okay, Sir?” Blaine asked, momentarily frantic at Kurt’s actions. Kurt didn’t lift his head up, smiling sadly despite the fact he knew Blaine couldn’t see him. “You’re always so attentive, huh?” He mumbled into the leather fabric covering. “So kind regardless of the suffering you went through...I wish I could be brave like that. Like you…”

Blaine had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to be hearing this. He suspected the Dom was talking more to himself than Blaine. Still, he couldn’t let himself leave this alone. “What do you mean, Sir?”

Kurt exhaled a deep sigh. “You’re so wonderful, Blaine. Not as a slave or even as a sub, but just in general. You’ve been put through so much awful shit, yet you still put on a brave face and become the perfect submissive. Even when neither of us want me to take advantage of you, you still offer yourself....That takes guts.”

Blaine swallowed thickly. He had never thought of himself as brave before. He always considered himself weak and pathetic for being a slave. He wanted to argue with the taller man, though he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. “...Thank you, Sir...”

Kurt finally lifted his head up, he was crying slightly, tears rolling across his angelic face with a dignified grace to them. “You’re welcome.” Blaine instinctively reached his hand out to wipe them away. But at the last minute Kurt hastily rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.

“We-we should get back. I didn’t think we would be out this long for lunch, so I left your pills in my room.” Blaine dropped his arm back down to his lap, trying not to be hurt from the action. His heart ached at the silent rejection. But he tried to ignore it, stomping his growing feelings down and remembering that Kurt wasn’t on his side. He couldn’t be; Kurt was a Dom, after all.

“Of course, Sir,” he responded, not meaning to add as much sass as he did. Kurt didn’t seem to notice though. The sub felt a deep ache at his Dom’s inobservance of this. He forced his gaze out the window, eyes mindlessly taking over L.A, lulling him to a restless, yet much needed sleep.

<><><>

Kurt didn’t know what to do now. He had ranted to Blaine earlier. Not to mention cried. He didn’t know how to do this sort of thing. He had never been a proper Dom to a sub before. Much less to a former slave. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?

He sighed as he poured himself a glass of wine. He would have preferred something stronger, but it seemed that was the only alcohol Mercedes liked as that was all she had.

“Can’t believe I put all that on him...I shouldn’t lay all my insecurities on the line like that. I’m the Dominant; I can't do that. Doms aren’t supposed to show weakness, right?” He walked over the couch that sat in his friends’ living room and unceremoniously fell down to it. 

Shaking his head, he downed the glass in one chug. “Maybe I should ask Santana. She would know better than I would. She had a sub once. What was her name again? Frankie or Dani or something like that?” He chuckled humorlessly at the realization that he was talking to himself. “Fucking pathetic, aren’t I…” he muttered, downing yet another glass of the beautiful ruby liquid.

As the time went by Kurt kept pouring glasses, overwhelmed by his insecurities.

Soon the Dom was sitting on the floor in [classic alcoholic position,](https://previews.agefotostock.com/previewimage/medibigoff/c054d8e41b4eff99f10912d3f604917e/syd-syda_0258383.jpg) though he wasn’t actually an alcoholic. He had unbuttoned all the buttons on his shirt, leaving his toned, hairless chest uncovered. His shirt billowing around him made him appear smaller than he really was. His hair was messy, pulled back by the endless amount of times he had run his hands through it, innately stressed. He felt about ready to go to sleep right there, on the couch in the middle of his ex-best-friend’s living room.

But then the alarm on his phone went off, a loud wailing noise that reverberated throughout Kurt’s head. The alarm was titled: Blaine’s hormone pills , so the purpose of it was clear.

Staggering his way up the stairs to his temporary room, he forgot his purpose instead and wandered around, looking for the sub he knew he needed. Even if he was disgusted by himself for it.

<><><>

Blaine lay on his stomach, facing the T.V. in front of the bed. He grumbled as he clicked through hundreds of channels of ridiculous reality tv, boring documentaries, and the god-awful Disney reboots of classic movies. Though not all of his old owners had allowed him to watch television, his most recent one did. Kurt did as well, apparently.

“Nothin’ good?” Kurt slurred as he swayed into the room, the stench of alcohol warm on his breath. Blaine sat up. “No, Sir,” he responded, wary of his owner. He didn’t know yet how Kurt responded to liquor. “You know what you should watch?” The unusually ungraceful Dom asked, flopping down clumsily onto Blaine’s bed. “W-what, Sir?” Blaine asked hesitantly. Kurt gestured for him to have the remote and mumbled a ‘Thank you,’ when Blaine gave it to him.

“Steven Universe.” He said, trying to figure out the buttons on the remote. “Damn thing…” he groused. “Steven Universe, Sir?” Kurt nodded distractedly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that a kid’s show? A cartoon, Sir?” He teased, a smile playing on the corners of his lips.

Kurt drunkenly feigned offense and brought a hand to his chest, burping undistinguished. Blaine smiled. “Steven Universe is for everyone, as are many cartoons. Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil, Gravity Falls, Over The Garden Wall, She-ra And The Princesses Of Power, Adventure Time, The Owl House, etcetera, they’re all wonderful shows with an interesting plot line and impressive character growth.”

Blaine had to admit, he was slightly amazed at the list that had left Kurt’s mouth. His owner didn’t honestly seem like a man who would enjoy cartoons.

Kurt seemed to read his mind, or his expression was just that obvious: “I know, I know. The prissy fashion queer has an odd taste for cartoons, I’ve heard it all before. But they’re really much better than the older generation’s shows. There is much more diversity. Not just gay characters, but also more trans people, non-binary people, people of color, race, ethnicity, social class, and so much more. It’s truly remarkable.”

Blaine frowned. What kind of trouble had Kurt been through that he felt like he had to defend himself for liking a certain type of show? And why did he become so philosophical when drunk? When Blaine was intoxicated, he knew, he got horny and needy. Kurt, however, became sad and resentful. It made Blaine reconsider the privileged life he had previously believed Kurt was a part of as a Dom. It made him see his owner differently, he wasn’t sure if it was in a better or worse light, but different for sure.

“So, you wanna watch?” Kurt muttered, snuggling up to Blaine almost unconsciously. “Um, if you’d like, Sir…” the sub mumbled, his face a brilliant shade of crimson from the rush of hormones he got from even the smallest touch. It made him feel almost light-headed. “How often did you say I should take my pills, Sir?” He asked, suddenly reminded by the blush that beheld his cheeks.

“Twice a day for the sex stuff,” his owner said bluntly, the liquor obvious if it wasn’t before. “And once a day for the STD,” he finished. “Would you tell me where you put them, please, Sir?” Kurt nuzzled his face in Blaine’s neck, breathing deeply in the utter stench of submissive that Blaine held. The action caused shivers to run up and down the sub’s spine. “Mhm...nightstand.”

Blaine gently pushed him away, despite his body’s eager pull for the Dom. “I have to go take my pill for the...um...you know, sex stuff.” Kurt nodded and mumbled some incoherent reply.

Blaine walked to Kurt’s room, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. “He’s drunk, don’t get your hopes up. Argh, no! Don’t say hopes! You don’t want him!” He whisper-yelled to himself. He turned the corner and paced into Kurt’s room. Glancing around, he spotted the nightstand in the typical place next to the bed. He opened it and found his pills. He grabbed his pills and quickly swallowed one after skimming over the dietary restrictions.

The pill immediately took effect. He felt a shudder go down his back and the void reappeared in his chest. “Okay. Okay. You’re okay. Just go back and entertain him. He’s drunk, it can’t take much to put him back in his bed, to just let him forget about this and keep his dignity,” after sizing himself up with his pep-talk, he strided back to his room.

The sub spotted Kurt watching Steven Universe, as earlier promoted. “Sir?” He asked as he sat himself next to the Dom. “Hmm?” Kurt asked, leaning into the former-slave’s personal space. He smelled Blaine in a way that could be considered creepy, fluttering his eyes shut and mumbling an apology, yet not making a move to stop. “Isn’t it about time to go to sleep? Would you like me to help you to your room?” He asked, hoping Kurt would just order him to carry him and they would be done. He knew, though, that he wouldn’t, not even in his current drunken state.

“No, I can walk. Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he said, standing and falling almost immediately back to the bed. Blaine caught him on instinct. “Maybe I could use some help, heh heh.” Kurt laughed stiffly. “Of course, Sir.” Blaine responded. He was already lifting his owner and starting to carry him to his room. “Thank you, Blaine.” Blaine nodded mutely.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist tightly. Blaine blushed lightly, soon wrapping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders to help. When they got to his owner’s room, Blaine tried to pry Kurt’s grip off him but failed. Kurt didn’t seem to realize how tight he was holding onto the man.

Regardless of whether or not he did know, he brought Blaine down with him onto the bed, wrapping them both up in the comforter before Blaine could make a break for it. Kurt fell asleep fast, his breathing even and calm compared to Blaine’s raggedy own. The last time a Dom, or anyone for that matter, had held him, it was during one of his ‘services’.

But although Kurt was asleep, his grip didn’t let up. Blaine held his breath. He was mentally preparing himself for the torture he usually had to endure, but Kurt was asleep. And he was warm. And comfortable. And after a few panicky breaths, he relaxed into it, falling asleep in the Dom’s strong arms.


	10. Chapter Ten

During the entirety of the night, Kurt had not once let go of his grip on Blaine. His chest was warm and flush against Blaine's back, his arms wrapped around Blaine’s trim body, and breath mellow on Blaine’s neck in his sleep.

As for Blaine, after calming down, he practically melted into Kurt’s arms. He felt so content. His body had stopped it’s simmering, and his mind felt oceanic, waves no longer crashing but washing over his body. He fell asleep not long after, feeling happily dead to the world.

In the morning, Blaine woke up alone. Yawning gleefully (pun intended), he blinked the sleep from his eyes. The past night’s sleep had been the best rest Blaine had had since his previous owner. “Sir?” He asked the empty room. The only noise he could hear was the sound of water rushing from the bathroom. Blaine figured Kurt was taking a shower.

Pulling the covers off, he stood and stretched. Today was their last day here in L.A. They were going to head out to the airport at noon. The bags had been packed already. When, Blaine didn’t know. Kurt was far more organized and private than his past owners, who would’ve simply used their many other slaves to pack for them.

Blaine made his way downstairs jauntily, an extra bounce in his step. Glancing at the clock, he read 10:03 am, they’d be leaving in about two hours. Just two more hours, then he’d be with his owner in his apartment. He was grateful to have met Miss Mercedes and Mister Sam (And get the pills for his STD), but he was very ready to leave L.A. and be without an audience.

“Mornin’, Blainers,” yawned Sam, looking terribly debauched as he joined Blaine in the kitchen. Mercedes must have scened with him that morning. The blond man was wearing  _ those _ sweatpants again, and nothing to cover his upper half. Blaine forced himself not to stare. “Good morning, Mister Sam.”

Sam looked him up and down suspiciously with a sleepy smile. “What’s got you so bubbly?” Blaine merely grinned. “I don’t quite know. But my mind seems calmer.” Sam raised an eyebrow. He looked to either side of himself, as if afraid to be caught by something - or someone - then leaned in.

“Did you and Kurt...you know…?” Sam humped the air suggestively, making a perfect  _ ‘o’ _ with his pillowy lips. Blanie blushed darkly. “Oh. Um...uh, no.” he said dumbly. Sam stopped and gave him a look, as if to say  _ ‘Yeah, right.’ _ Blaine turned away. “I can’t feel the same sub pheromones radiating off you anymore,” he told him. “I know  _ something _ happened.  _ Something _ to have calmed your sub side.  _ Something _ that only a Dom could’ve done.  _ Something _ that only  _ Kurt _ could’ve done. Might as well tell  _ me _ before my very lovely, yet very nosy, wife walks in and finds out-”

“Before I walk in and find out what?” Mercedes asked, suddenly appearing as though she’d been personally summoned. She crossed her arms sternly, giving both boys a pointed look. Blaine snickered. It was clear what roles the two had been in that morning. Mercedes was practically exuberating Dominance. Unlike Sam, however, she had cleaned herself up and was  [ beautifully dressed. ](https://uploads.wornontv.net/2015/03/mercedes-ruffle-print-kimono-jacket.jpg)

“Oh! Hi, honey!” Sam squeaked. “I was just telling Blaine about my anniversary plans. It’s a surprise and I didn’t want...to...” He trailed off as Mercedes waved her finger dismissively. “No way, white boy. You and I both know you lie like shit. Also, you’re giving me a damn good anniversary surprise for trying to use that as a distraction.”

Sam bowed his head and nodded, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, don’t worry, babe. You’ll make it up to me soon enough.” She smirked, a new idea for a scene clear on her face. Sam blushed as his submissive side came out to play. Mercedes leaned in closer and closer, breathing purposely on his neck. Sam arched into her touch, but at the last second she pulled away with a maniacal grin planted on her face. 

So, Blaine,” she said. Sam whined a little as she turned her attention back to the uncomfortable sub. “I take it you’re  _ attempting _ to hide something from me. Don’t forget, I can feel the lack of pheromones the same way Sam can.” Blaine's eyebrows shot up. “Did you eavesdrop on us, Miss Mercedes?” Mercedes laughed and shook her head. “Hell no. Your need for some Domination has stank up the house all weekend,” she softened her tone after seeing the guilt ridden look on the former-slave’s face. “Look, we’ve all been horny teenagers once-”

“But I’m  _ not _ some teenager. I’m a pathetic slave whose body has somehow grown used to creepy old men groping it,” Blaine grumbled. Mercedes gave him a sympathetic look. She would have offered more, but she didn’t have anything to give.  _ Kurt _ had to do that. “I’m sorry,” Mercedes cooed as she rubbed his back. “But you’re still going to tell me whatever it was that you were trying to hide from me,” she directed.

Blaine nodded, “Nothing happened, really...It’s just...last night, when Sir was drunk, I tried to put him to bed...and he didn’t want to let me go...so we slept together, with his arms around me…”

“And?” Mercedes questioned. Blaine nibbled on his bottom lip self-consciously. “And it felt...nice...like I belonged there, in his arms…” Mercedes nodded understandingly. “I know how you feel. Well, obviously not, but the point is I can put myself in your shoes.” Blaine smiled gratefully, though he pulled away from her touch. He hated when people pitied him. It annoyed him to no end. “Thank you, Miss Mercedes,” Blaine muttered, less content than he had been earlier that morning. “You’re welcome, Blaine.”

Blaine didn’t know how to respond, luckily he didn’t have to. Because at that moment, Kurt joined them, in nothing but a towel around his waist. Blaine practically salivated at his first glance of his Dom’s toned, milky chest. His nipples were pink and looked oh-so-soft. His chest was hairless and smooth, complete with lightly toned abs that pointed to a delicious V cut leading down to what must have been an elegant cock.

“Hey, look who's up,” Mercedes chuckled as Kurt made his way down the stairs. “I found my empty bottle of wine, I take it you were my little thief?” Kurt nodded apologetically. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Do you know where my clothes went?” Before Mercedes could even try to answer, Blaine did. “They’re probably in the suitcases, Sir. In case you forgot.” Kurt nodded curtly. “Thanks, Blaine,” and with that he left.

Blaine sighed, his hopes dashed. He got the message, Kurt didn’t want to talk about it. His owner didn’t feel the same contentment, the same  _ happiness _ that he did. Mercedes rubbed his back sympathetically. “I’m sorry, hon,” she said. Blaine nodded, yet again at a loss for words.

Blaine left the two switches and headed to his room. He curled up on the bed and hugged himself. Soon after he fell asleep staring at the ceiling, not knowing how to feel or what to do about everything he messed up.

<><><>

After they said their goodbyes and thank yous, they headed out for the airport. Blaine thankfully didn’t have to ride anywhere but in coach, sitting beside his Dom. The plane ride was anticlimactic, full of awkward brushes of skin and mumbled apologies. Both fell asleep not long after boarding and didn’t wake up until they landed in New York.

<><><>

At Kurt’s (and Blaine’s) apartment, the two men headed in different directions, despite Blaine’s reluctance to leave his Dom’s side.

“I’ll make dinner soon,” Kurt said. “But you can eat whatever you find. Do you know how to cook?” Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed together. “No, Sir. My past owners have always had many different slaves for many different jobs. Cooking slaves, cleaning slaves. I was always a pleasure slave, so I very rarely left the bedroom.” Kurt blanched. “You always stayed...in the bedroom…?”

“Uh...yes, Sir. I was bought for sex. I was almost always chained to a bed or some sort of sexual torture device in some way. Whether it was a generous ten foot chain that allowed me to use my free time reading or watching tv, or it was handcuffs attached to the bed’s headboard while a vibrator buzzed inside of me for eight hours a day. It depended on who my owner was and how they were feeling that day.” Kurt and Blaine both burned bright red, but Blaine shrugged it away. “I...I am so sorry, Blaine. Nobody should have to go through that.”

Blaine stared at him in silence. They still hadn’t talked about what had happened that morning. “...Well, I’ll be in my office if you need me, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Blaine responded. Kurt hesitated for a second but seemed to make a decision with himself as he nodded to himself and walked away into the bedroom.

He walked aimlessly around the apartment, constantly exhaling in boredom. He purposely walked past Kurt’s office door a few times, though Kurt was too busy with work to pay attention to him. “Sir?” he finally asked. Kurt didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

“Could I maybe make us dinner? Spaghetti or something?” Kurt nodded distractedly. “Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out.” Blaine shut his eyes tight, trying to fight the anger and sadness he felt rushing at him. “Of course, Sir. Thank you.” Kurt made an incomprehensible noise that Blaine took as a dismissal.

<><><>

Blaine made the spaghetti hastily, trying to figure out the recipe in his head so Kurt wouldn’t walk in on the mess his kitchen was. Noodles were everywhere, ground beef burnt and pink in different areas, He had a pounding headache, it was as if he’d been in a war. Which, in a way, he was. The battle he was fighting with his mind and his body. The want for Kurt to simply be his friend, and the need for a Dom.

Kurt hadn’t actually ordered him to make their dinner, but Blaine needed a distraction. A replacement, really, for his lack of any Domination.

He watched the noodles soften and twist in the large, metal bowl. “Sauce. Sauce. I need the sauce.” He murmured. He scavenged the pantry for a jar of marinara sauce. Realizing that he had made everything in the wrong order was no help.

“Fuck!” Blaine yelped as he tripped and dropped the sauce bowl. He felt tears prick in his eyes. All the frustration finally getting to him.  _ Or maybe it’s just jetlag,  _ Blaine figured.  _ Yeah, it must be. _ Blaine ignored the rage and depression burning in his chest.  _ Everything is okay, _ Blaine tried to reassure himself.

He grabbed the bottle of Lysol and a roll of paper towels. “Everything’s fine...Just clean it up...Just clean up all the mess you’ve made…” he nervously muttered to himself. “Just clean up the mess you’ve made with this shitty, ameteur spaghetti sauce...and your owner’s life...how he had to drive all the way out to LA just because you couldn't keep yourself away from a fucking STD...because you’re just what everyone says...a slut...a whore...weak...pathetic…” Blaine kept muttering and crying, his sobs turning loud and heavy. A horrible, downward spiral into a flurry of his own confusing emotions.

<><><>

Kurt stood up and stretched. The sketches he had made were admittedly inspired by Blaine, outfits that would typically match the look of dark, curly hair and a broad, olive toned body. He looked at the clock and noticed it had already been a couple hours since he’d seen the sub. He figured it was time to make dinner, it being 6:30 already.

When Kurt walked into the kitchen, Blaine was scrubbing frantically at the floor with a sponge. He was anxiously muttering to himself and tears were falling down, a cascade of emotions that he couldn’t keep on ignoring. Sobs tearing themselves through his tiny, unhealthy body.

“Blaine? What happened, are you alright?” Blaine didn’t look up, just scrubbed harder and mumbled apologies to his Dom. “I’m sorry, Sir. I just spilled the sauce, dinner will be ready soon. I’m sorry for the wait, Sir.”

“Blaine, what’s wrong?” Kurt said as he knelt down to Blaine’s level, crouched on the floor. He lifted his sub’s chin with a finger. Blaine finally met his gaze. The former-slave sighed dazedly at the small gesture, he  _ needed _ the touch of a Dom. “I… don’t know, Sir…” Kurt had clearly caught on as his face was slightly pink. “Have you had your pills today? For your sub hormones?”

Blaine nodded shakily, chasing Kurt’s touch as he pulled his hand away. “Please don’t go, Sir…” he breathed, surprising himself with his honesty. Kurt sucked in a breath through his nose. “I...I won’t. But why are you doing this? I said I would make us dinner.”

Blaine shook his head and went back to scrubbing, refocusing back on his current task.“I asked you earlier, you gave me permission.”

“Okay...I don’t remember that. I must've been distracted by my work again. But even still, you didn’t have to.”

“But I do. I  _ have _ to do this. I have to-to serve you in some way or another. I have to, or else...or else you’ll-”

“I’ll what, Blaine? You can tell me, what do you think will happen if you don’t submit or serve me?”

Blaine hung his head. “You’ll get rid of me.”

“Blaine, you know-”

“I  _ do _ know, Sir. I understand you don’t need me for...physical relief...But I can’t just expect you to be so kind and generous without getting something in return.”

“Blaine, I’m nice to you because you’re more than an object. You’re a person. A human being. And I don’t expect you to repay me. Not with cooking, or cleaning, or whatever else you’ve managed to come up with.”

“But what about when you get tired of me? You’ll want to sell me or...or worse…” Blaine trailed off and Kurt knew exactly what he was thinking: A Farm.

A farm is a place where unwanted submissives go by order of the fascist government. In a farm Doms force subs to breed and reproduce quote-in-quote  _ ‘perfect’ _ subs. Not just the females, but the males as well. Males are often injected with a special vaccine, and it gives them an egg and allows them to carry offspring. Said males are called carriers. Carriers can have a child much faster than an average female. Rather than carrying the baby for 9 months, they carry it for 4 and when they are ready to be birthed, the carrier is killed and cut open at the stomach. It's a brutal and heartless process. Carriers are at the bottom of the food chain. If you become a carrier, all hope is lost.

“I don’t like the fact that my body yearns for you the way it does, but you treat me so much better than my previous owners. I don’t want to lose that. You’re the kindest Dom I have been around in a long time.” Kurt took it all in slowly. “I won’t get rid of you, Blaine. But I am warning you, I’ve never had a proper sub before. I’ve only ever had one-night-stands.” He wiped the tears away from Blaine's cheeks with his hands. “You are the most beautiful, amazing, responsive submissive I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Blaine whimpered at the touch of Kurt’’s hands on his face. “And i understand now that the pills aren’t working.” Blaine jerked away from him at that. “Are you going to-”

“No,” Kurt cut him off. “I’m not going to violate you like that, but I will Dominate you.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, truly, insanely sorry that this chapter has taken so long! As I'm sure everyone knows, COVID-19 has caused a pandemic across the world, which is why this chapter took so long. Because of some people who don't realize and/or acknowledge the seriousness of the situation and continue to leave their homes (does not apply to people who legitimately need to leave), more people have become infected. One of them being my sister’s husband. His family has been taking care of him, and these past two weeks I was helping. So I am very sorry for taking so long and for the shortness of this chapter, but now that he is being taken care of by more qualified people, I am no longer needed and therefore free to write as I please.  
> I also apologize for being annoying, I know we're all getting tired of the warnings and shit, but please stay safe and stay positive! We’ll get through this eventually, remember, it gets worse before it gets better <3

“Dominate me? But, Sir, how will that work if you don’t-”

“Shh, Blaine. Just let me handle everything,” Kurt soothed, pressing a slender finger to Blaine’s lips. Blaine felt a delicious shudder run down his back. His lips parted against his Dom’s finger and his breathing became shaky. “O-okay, Sir.”

Kurt looked deep into his eyes. They were twinkling with the promise of something that could be wonderful and rewarding...or horrible and deeply scarring. If he did this right, he could become closer to Blaine, and maybe get him to open up. However, if he messed up, he could lose that little bit of trust he had worked so hard for already, and scare the poor sub even more. Suffice to say, Kurt was well aware of the pressure.

“Okay...First of all, you need to clean up. Can you take a shower by yourself right now? Or do you need me to help?” Blaine blinked blearily, tears blocking his vision. “I...what…?” He couldn’t get a full sentence out; he was so dazed. “Okay, so that’s a no…” Kurt rubbed his eyes. How was he going to do this? How was he going to help Blaine through this? He was usually a good Dom. He was well known and somewhat sought after for his nightly...escapades.

But those submissives weren’t like Blaine. No one was.

Then he remembered something Santana had used to always tell him (And what he had learned to live by during high-school): Be confident. In order for Blaine to feel safe, his Dom had to seem safe. He had to at least seem like he knew what he was doing.

“Go to the bathroom, get undressed, and wait for me,” Kurt considered it for a second before adding: “pet.”

Blaine took a moment scrambling to his feet, but he made no objection to do as he was told. Kurt watched his breathing suddenly become significantly less ragged as he clambered his way into the bathroom.

Kurt himself looked out at his kitchen, surveying Blaine’s heartfelt...though admittedly very poor attempt to make spaghetti. The sauce was splattered across his floor and bottom cupboards, the ground beef rank from being left to burn on the stove, and the noodles were left in the sink after being drained, which would’ve been fine if not for them being too hard and uncooked. He ignored the urge to clean it all up then and there, and instead took a deep breath, heading for the bathroom.

Kurt knew that he had told Blaine to get undressed, but he was not prepared for the beautiful sub’s cock to be hard and jutting out against his stomach, pointed almost directly at him. Blaine was kneeling, his hands held behind his back and eyes cast downwards in the middle of the  [ small bathroom. ](https://leasingkc.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/IMG_7446-1-1024x682.jpg) He was breathing deeply and trembling in the slightest. Perspiration was beading across his beaten, bruised body. It reminded Kurt of the trauma Blaine had gone through, and how he was not fully prepared to handle everything that came with buying the poor boy.

“You may speak, pet,” Kurt said, finally sinking down into his Dominance. “Master…” Blaine moaned shakily, unable to produce much more than a word or two. Kurt decided not to bring up the former-slave’s hard on.

“Can you stand for me, pet?” Blaine nodded sharply. “Do that then, pet. And you may look at me.” Blaine rose on shaky legs. He almost fell but Kurt grabbed him by the waist, holding him in a hug. The shorter man leaned on his Dom, his hips twitching when his boner brushed Kurt. “Mmmaster,” Blaine pleaded, thrusting against Kurt’s leg. “Blaine, pet,” Kurt protested. He nudged the sub away as gently as he could manage. “We have to get you cleaned up. You’ve got to get in the bathtub, pet.” Blaine’s glazed over eyes were full of sexual frustration, yet he obeyed nonetheless.

“How hot do you like it, pet?” Kurt asked as Blaine settled into the tub. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut as Kurt ran his hand up and down his back. His cock was still hard and obvious against his thighs. “Whatever you usually like, Master,” he moaned. Goosebumps covered Kurt’s skin in the way they only did when he was extremely turned on. He turned the faucet on and hot water streamed down into the tub. Blaine sighed contently as the hot water started seeping in and soothing his stiff body. “That’s wonderful, Master.”

Kurt used a washcloth to carefully wipe over the cuts that littered his body, but also made sure to get the dirt and grime and sauce off. It was a quiet, intimate thing. Too intimate for a naked sub and legal Dom. Blaine gasped as Kurt grazed his hip, so very close to his leaking dick. Kurt noticed, of course he did, he couldn’t give much thought to anything else. “Master…?”

“Yes, pet?”

“More, please…” Blaine begged.

Kurt internally winced. “No, pet. I cannot do that.”

Blaine practically leapt for Kurt, grabbing onto the lapels of his unbuttoned shirt and pulling him so close they were breathing each other’s air. “I need you, Master!" He breathed harshly, his breath hot on Kurt's cheek. "Please, I’m begging you!” Kurt stared at his wide, frenzied eyes and peeled the shaking sub's hands off of him, they were sweaty yet freezing. He held them in his grasp as tightly and reassuringly as he could. "I'm sorry but I already told you, pet, I won't dominate you through sex."

"But I'm a  _ sex _ slave!" Blaine persisted. "I can't do much else, Master!” Kurt took a moment to let that sink in. He hadn’t really considered that before. But still, he couldn’t do that to Blaine, he couldn’t take advantage of him, a defenseless former-slave drunk on his own needs.

“No. You will listen to me, and you will listen now,” he said in his most Dominative voice. Blaine gulped audibly. “Yes, Master. Anything, Master.” Kurt watched as he sifted, sitting criss-cross with his hands resting on his thighs, an odd position but the closest he could get to kneeling in a bathtub. “You are going to stand up, stay still, and let me clean you up.” Blaine nodded. “Yes, Master,” and followed his Dom’s instructions.

Kurt stood up beside him, the wall (?) of the tub the only thing between them. He leaned over it and used the shower head to rinse his sub’s body off first. Blaine shivered when the water sprayed over his cock, Kurt did his best to ignore it. Once he was rinsed off, Kurt used a soaped-up washcloth to run up and around Blaine’s back, stomach, and arms. Blaine whimpered when Kurt’s washcloth stimulated Blaine’s erect nipples, Kurt once again did his best to ignore it. He knelt down and politely ordered Blaine to spread his legs. Both Dom and sub turned red at the implications of what that sentence held, but let it go without mention, just like everything else. Kurt rubbed inside and around his legs, his feet, and his waist area. This time Blaine didn’t make any noise, merely moved as he was told to. Finally, Kurt re-rinsed him off and told him to step out of the tub.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Kurt ordered, wrapping a towel around Blaine and picking him up bridal-style. He didn’t glance at Blaine, however, he could feel that the sub was staring at him. “Master?” Blaine whispered against Kurt’s neck. “Yes, Blaine?” Kurt responded, laying Blaine down on the bed. Blaine didn’t even bother to cover up, and the towel slid off oh so slowly.

Kurt rushed to his dresser, and gave Blaine a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a tank top. Blaine looked down at the pile of clothes on the bed, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I thought that we were going to finally have sex, Master,” he mumbled under his breath. Kurt swallowed down the groan that rose in his throat at that. “No, pet. You’ll get dressed and we will figure this out. I know that you still need me.” Blaine’s lips curved downward into a frown. “Master, may I have permission to speak out of turn?”

“Of course, pet.”

“My body needs you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t reject me. I’ll understand if you had other...reservations...before I came to be here with you. Many of my past owners have used me as a toy, or an addition to their  _ real _ relationship. You don’t have to do anything for me, Master.”

Kurt wrapped the boy up in a hug. “I know I don’t  _ have _ to, but I  _ want _ to. I want to help you, Blaine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I’m bored pretty much all the time now, if you want to text me - (870) 724-8546


	12. Chapter Twelve

Kurt left the room once Blaine fell asleep. Well, more accurately he left after peeling Blaine’s surprisingly strong arms off his body. He hadn’t noticed how much of a cuddler the sub was. Though, that was probably because he  _ had _ been purposely avoiding falling asleep with the curly haired man.

He walked out into the  [ kitchen, ](https://hgtvhome.sndimg.com/content/dam/images/hgtv/fullset/2010/8/31/0/DP_Berliner-white-galley-kitchen_s3x4.jpg.rend.hgtvcom.1280.1707.suffix/1400954591897.jpeg) preparing to take on the spaghetti from hell. He sat down on the floor, first wiping off the bottom cabinets. It took some elbow grease and a hell of a lot of Lysol, but he did it. Then he cleared the stove of the burnt ground beef, coughing a little at the smoky smell. At last, were the noodles. He poked them a little, grinning as he picked up an unsauced noodle and ate it. “It’s a little undercooked,” he whispered to himself. “But not that bad.”

After he cleaned the rest of the kitchen (as a neatfreak, he absolutely could not leave parts of it sparkling and other parts dull), Santana called.

_ “Sup, Kurt.” _

“Hey, Tana.”

_ “So how’s it hanging?” _ She asked, rather suspiciously.

“Fine…And you?” He heard the latina giggle.  _ Giggle. _ Santana Lopez  _ never _ giggled.

_ “Brittany is amazing!” _ She gushed.  _ “Meet me at the diner and I’ll tell you everything!” _

Kurt blinked. “I don’t know, Santana. Blaine’s asleep and I don’t want him to wake up in an empty, only slightly familiar apartment.”

_ “Come on, Kurt!” _ She urged.  _ “Can’t you just write a note or something?” _

“I don’t think that’d be a very good idea-”

_ “Kurt! Please? I never get to gush about my girlfriends!” _

He raised an eyebrow, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “That’s only because you never have any girlfriends to gush about,” he quipped, smirking.

_ “Asshole,” _ she muttered.

He contemplated it for a second. “Yeah, okay. Save me a seat,” he finally relented.

_ “See you in ten?” _

“Sure, Tana,” he laughed.

<><><>

“Lady Lips!” The latina yelled, waving her friend over. Kurt blushed as everyone turned to look who  _ ‘Lady Lips’ _ was. “Tana!” he hissed. “I told you not to call me that in public.”

“Eh, who cares what these ass-wipes think,” she laughed. Kurt gave in, playfully rolling his eyes and letting out a chuckle of his own. “So Brittany is nice, I take it?

“Yeah. Sorry about that girly squealing on the phone earlier. I didn’t mean to act so much like Berry.” She shuddered dramatically.

Kurt snorted. “It’s fine. And I personally would love to hear all about this girlfriend of yours. From the little bit of conversation we shared, she’s very sweet.”

Santana beamed. “Yeah. Brit’s very-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You call her Brit?” Kurt asked in surprise.

“Yep,” she replied, giddy. “Pretty great, right? She’s warming up to me already. She even lets me cuddle with her!” Kurt could’ve been blind and he still would have been able to tell she was smiling as far as her face would let her. “She’s so open and trustful with me! It makes me even more grateful that she wasn’t in the facilities for too long!”

That part got him.

He knew in the logical part of his mind that Santana was simply happy, that she wasn’t  _ trying _ to flaunt her submissive to another Dom. A  _ clear _ suggestion of superioress. And in that same part of his mind he knew that submissives weren’t simple objects, that they weren’t meant for flaunting.

But none of that mattered. He was jealous of her, his best friend, and the success of her new relationship.

“Kurt?” Santana asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

“Uh...yeah. Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, what with sleeping on the couch and all.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got an extra mattress, if you want it.”

Kurt’s eyes widened.  “You’d let me use it?”

“Yeah, sure,” the latina shrugged. “It was originally meant for Brit, in case she was one of the subs who had been in the facilities for too long. We could use the extra space, and she always crawls into my bed anyway. Just let us over sometime this weekend and we’ll get one of our neighbors to bring it.”

“Can you bring it tonight?” He asked her, to which he was answered with a nod.

Kurt looked at her with astonished eyes. Santana was being so...generous…? He was almost afraid to think it. Brittany must have calmed her down more than Kurt knew.

“How’s Bill, by the way?” She asked, changing the subject.

Kurt clenched his jaw. He knew she honestly didn’t remember - he had learned to read her face many years ago - but it still irked him to think of their high school days when she was capable of cutting anyone down with a few simple words. Including himself. “ _ Blaine _ , Santana. His name is  _ Blaine _ .”

Santana looked up from her salad and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, and?"

_ "And _ I want you to be on your absolute best behavior tonight in case you meet him."

Santana stabbed a leaf of lettuce with her fork and undignifiedly talked through a bite of greens, "I alrery met 'im."

Kurt threw a napkin at her. "You know what I mean, Santana."

“Yeah, okay.”

“Welp,” Kurt said, checking his phone for the time. “I’ll see you later.”

“But I haven't even gotten to gush,” Santana whined.

“I have to get back to Blaine.”

She nodded, though a bit reluctant, she knew how important the sub had become to Kurt.

“Alright, Lady. I’ll swing by with Brittany in a few hours. We’ll bring the mattress and some take-out or something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, going back to his apartment and the submissive inside.

When he walked back in, the note was still taped to the fridge. He headed for his room, and found Blaine miraculously still asleep.

<><><>

Blaine woke up to the feeling of the sun kissing his cheek, sunlight streaming in from the open window. He felt his heart swelling in his chest as he recalled what had happened before he fell asleep in his Dom’s bed.

Kurt  _ wanted _ to help him.

...But was he actually telling the truth? Could Blaine really trust this Dom? His past had taught him otherwise, after all. Blaine’s former owners had always used tricks like this. They’d lure him in with the promise of freedom -  _ of love _ \- and then, when he was at his weakest point, naked and blissful in their bed after what he  _ thought _ was making love, they’d whip him and order him to act his place...like a disobedient dog.

Blaine didn’t even know he was crying until Kurt - who had been there for who knows how long - wiped the tears off his cheek. “What are you thinking, pet?” Kurt asked him, kind as always. So damn kind. If only he were like the others, then Blaine wouldn’t be so torn about everything. “I...I was just thinking about...”

“Yes?” Kurt prompted as Blaine trailed off, absently playing with a loose thread on the comforter. “You can tell me, Blaine.”

“I…” Blaine sighed deeply. “Nevermind, Master. I was simply wondering when you would...um...order me to clean up the mess I made. In the kitchen. That’s it, truly.”

Kurt’s face turned to stone. His lips set themselves in a thin line and his eyes went blank. He was almost completely unreadable.  _ Almost. _ But disappointment is hard to mask completely, and Blaine could feel the Dom's disappointment like a deadweight on his chest. “I know you’re lying to me, pet,” Kurt finally spoke, voice eerily controlled.

“I’m not, Master-”

“You  _ are. _ And what hurts the most is that you thought I wouldn’t be able to tell. That, even after all this time, you  _ still _ don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” Kurt turned away, arms at his sides. Blaine bowed his head.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

Kurt sucked in a breath and balled his fists at his sides. Blaine thought he was going to get a smack to the jaw, finally have a reason to not trust him. But then Kurt sighed and turned back around. “No. No, it’s fine. It makes sense that you don’t trust me, considering everything you went through. I should be more empathetic. I owe you an apology; I’m sorry, Blaine, pet.”

Blaine watched him, guilt twisting and tying his stomach in knots. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Master.”

Kurt’s eye twitched in annoyment. Why wouldn’t Blaine just let this go? “Blaine. I told you, pet, everything is fine. You did nothing wrong.”

“But, Master-”

“No, Blaine. Let. It. Go.”

Blaine opened his mouth to say more, but stopped at the last second. “Whatever you say, Master.”

Kurt nodded sharply. “Santana will be coming over soon, she’s my closest friend. She'll also be bringing her sub, Brittany. You don’t have to do anything for them, you don’t even have to talk to them. But they’re good people, if you would like to meet them.” Blaine swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Yes, Master.” Kurt turned to leave and said, before walking out, “I cleaned while you were sleeping, by the way. You have nothing to worry about.”

Blaine watched his owner leave with a heady feeling in his chest. Kurt was stopping everything in his life for  _ him. _ He was refusing to get angry, remaining unhealthily calm, for  _ him. _ It was so much...kindness...that Blaine had grown used to being wary of. Now, though, he was getting exhausted. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep all this second guessing up.

<><><>

Kurt took two long strides to  [ his office. ](https://i1.wp.com/buleblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/home-office-300x150.jpg?resize=696%2C348&ssl=1) He sat down at his desk, the room seeming much less inspiring than usual without Blaine laying on his couch. “Get it together, Hummel,” he hissed at himself. He scavenged his drawer for his hormone pills and swallowed one dry.

He pulled out his couch, grunting a little. He decided to take his shirt off when he noticed he was sweating. 

Blaine poked his head in after about 20 minutes of hearing his Dom grunting. “Can I help you, Sir?” He was back to Sir. Never Kurt. Always either Master or Sir. Kurt yet again found himself feeling jealous of Santana. What did she say to earn Brittany’s trust? What did she have that  _ he _ didn't?

“Sure,” he answered. Blaine was blushing profusely and failing to not stare at Kurt’s chest. And though that little bit of staring from a sub would normally be an ego boost, Kurt knew that this time it didn’t mean anything. It  _ couldn’t. _

“What would you like me to do, Sir?” Kurt wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm. It made Blaine blush even darker. “Grab the stuff off the bookshelf and put it in…” he looked around. “This box.” Blaine obeyed with a quiet murmur.

“Sir?” Blaine asked with a peculiar expression on his beautiful face. “Yes, Blaine?” Kurt answered, feeling a sense of deja voo. “Why is it that your office doesn’t match the rest of your apartment?” Kurt stared at him in surprise; Blaine didn’t really seem like the type to notice such things. “Well, when I bought this apartment it wasn’t really supposed to be a permanent thing. But then Vogue came along, and I just never left.”

Blaine smiled. It was nice to see him with a real, genuine smile. Now that Blaine was more conscious and like himself, it was like talking with an old friend. “I knew you wouldn’t have mixed and matched like that.” This time Kurt turned a light pink. “Yeah,” he chuckled.

He jumped when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. “Hello?” He said, stupidly answering it without checking the Caller ID.  _ “Mr. Kurt?” _ A familiar voice answered.  _ “This is Brittany.” _

“Oh. Hi, Brittany. What’s up?” He heard some giggling and rolled his eyes.

_ “Um, Miss Santana wanted me to tell you that we’ll be a little late but that--Teeheehee, Mistress!-” _

“Mm-mm. Absolutely not,” Kurt muttered, pressing the hang up button and rubbing his forehead. Not even a minute after, he felt his phone buzzing again. “Yes?” He sighed heavily.

_ “Hey, Lady.” _ Santana answered instead.  _ “Sorry about Brit and I. I didn’t realize she was already on the phone with you. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to be a little late, but we’re still coming. And we’re bringing chinese.” _

“Alright. Thanks, Tana. Bye.” And with that he hung up.

“Miss Santana?” Blaine asked. Kurt nodded in confirmation. “You like chinese, right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine grinned.

“She’s also bringing a second mattress. I’m going to sleep in my office, and you’ll have the bed in my room.” Blaine worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Before you object to anything, Blaine, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Um...okay. Thank you, Sir.” The two shared a smile. “Of course, Blaine.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this seems like a lazy way to introduce the character, but I had to include Elliott in this somehow ;)

“We’ve got Chinese,” Brittany happily announced as Kurt opened the door. She surprised the Dom by wrapping him up in a tight hug. “Where’s Blainey?” She asked him.

Behind Kurt, Blaine made a face. “Oh. I suppose that’s me?” Brittany went over to him and did the same as she did to Kurt, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing. Blaine’s eyes went wide. His arms hung in the air, not sure where to go. “Uh, hi? Miss Santana, I take it?” The blonde shook her head. “No. I’m Brittany. Miss Santana is my Domme. She’s still in the truck, talking to Elliott.”

“Elliott?” Kurt piped up. She turned to him, grinning. “Elliott’s our neighbor. He helped us bring the mattress here in his truck.” Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. “No, I know who he is. I just thought that he moved after…” Brittany cocked her head to the side, her blue eyes big and sparkling in question. “After what, Mister Kurt?”

Kurt plastered on a fake smile and changed the subject, “Nothing. And Santana’s right, you don’t have to call me Mister Kurt. Just Kurt is fine, thank you.” Brittany nodded. “Okay. Where do you want me to put these?” She asked, holding up the bags of chinese take-out. “Oh, um, the kitchen, I guess. Blaine? Could you show her?” Blaine nodded, though the look on his face told Kurt he was suspicious of the thing Brittany had missed.

Kurt waited until they were out of sight and headed out.

He walked down the stairs and groaned when he saw the all-too-familiar  [ blue and black F 150, ](https://oginnovations.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/OG-RS-TK-lightningblue.jpg) a mattress hanging out the back. Brittany wasn’t lying, Elliott really was here. “Dammit, Santana,” he muttered. “Fucking  _ Elliott, _ really?”

“Who’s Elliott?” Blaine asked, suddenly appearing at his side, Brittany right behind him. “Jesus Fuck! Blaine!” He screamed. The yelling caused both Santana and Elliott, having stepped out of the car, to look over at him. “Act casual,” Kurt whisper-yelled to the subs. “Okay…?” Blaine said, posing dramatically. His hands went to his hips and a fake smile appeared on his face, he started guffawing loudly. Brittany giggled at him.

“Less casual, less casual!” Kurt urged. Blaine stopped abruptly, the smile disappearing from his face. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sir. I was just trying to be funny. I shouldn’t have messed around.” He fidgeted with his hands anxiously. “No, Blaine, it’s nothing like that.” Kurt promised. “I only--He--Elliott and I...We have a history.” Blaine nodded.

Brittany merely watched them with wonder. “You two are really cute together,” she tittered. “Oh, no. No, we’re not together,” Kurt babbled, his hands waving around. Blaine was the same. Brittany just laughed airily at them, thoroughly amused. “I’m going to go get Miss Santana,” she giggled as she bounced away with a bright smile.

“I’m...I’m just going to go with her,” Blaine stuttered, pointing to her awkwardly. Kurt nodded. “Yeah, no, absolutely. I’ll wait here. I mean, not for you! Not that I won’t wait for you, cause I will! I would so totally wait for you! But in an innocent way, you know! I’m waiting for you but not just you, for everyone. We’re all pals, after all…” Blaine nodded as Kurt rambled on and on. “Yes, Sir,” he said as he started walking away.

Kurt watched him go with a self-conscious smile.  _ “Fuuuccckkk…” _ Kurt whispered to himself, speed-walking back into his apartment so he could watch them through his second floor window.

<><><>

Blaine followed the blonde with an uneasy smile. Kurt’s reaction to hearing of this  _ ‘Elliott’ _ was not great, to say the least, so the sub decided to remain on his guard.

“Miss Santana?” Brittany asked her. A woman with dark hair  [ dressed ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/71/4d/29714d726f695e58dfd30305ac7bab8e.jpg) in a pink, skintight skirt and leopard print top turned around, smiling. “Yeah, Brit?”

“Can we go inside now? I want chinese,” she whined. Santana grinned, holding her hand out. Blaine was confused for a second, but then Brittany linked pinkies with the Dom. Santana kissed the sub’s hand, causing Brittany to let out a symphony of giggles and a light blush to form on her cheeks.

Blaine felt a deep longing within himself.

“Sure, beautiful. We need to ask Princess why he’s being creepy anyway,” she said, pointing to the window where said man’s face was undignifiedly pressed against the glass.

“Hey, Kurt,” a man next to her yelled. Blaine watched Kurt freak out in the window before awkwardly waving and ultimately shutting the curtains with a crimson red blush. “Okay then…?” He said. “Is he being weird because of...you-know-what…?” He asked vaguely. Santana palmed her face. “He better not be,” she grumbled. “That was almost a year ago, he shouldn’t be so awkward about it now.”

“Awkward about what, Tana?” Brittany spoke up, seeing Blaine’s simultaneous reluctance and curiosity. Santana winced at her question. “I think it’d be better if I don’t tell you that in front of him, beautiful,” she said, nodding towards Blaine.

The sub in question swallowed nervously and wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s fine, I’ll go back inside.” Before any of them could protest, Blaine was trudging back up the stairs.

“Sir?” He yelled to the apartment. Nobody needed him. Nobody  _ wanted _ him. Miss Santana and Brittany couldn’t stand to even talk to him. He hadn’t met Elliott, but he apparently meant something to his Dom, or rather, he did at some point. And his Dom, his incredible, amazing, Dom, was getting tired of Blaine. Honestly, though, it was about time. After all, it had been almost 2 weeks since Kurt had bought him. It made more sense for him to get pissed off than remain...him.

“Hey Blaine,” Kurt said, rushing around his apartment.

“Sir, please?” The former-slave yelled again. “Sorry, Blaine. Busy.” Blaine sighed. “Yes, Master…” he whispered, the change in title not getting attention from Kurt.

He walked into Kurt’s room, undressed himself, and buried his body into his Dom’s sheets, chasing the smell of him on the pillow. He hated that he was like this. He hated how emotional he got if he wasn’t paid enough attention to. Kurt hadn’t noticed. Or he simply hadn’t cared enough to say or do anything. Though it was most-likely the latter considering everything that's happened recently. He fell asleep soon after, frustrated tears wetting his owner’s pillow case.

Unbeknownst to him, Santana had seen everything. Her Dominant side itched to go and help him, but she knew in her heart that  _ Kurt _ had to.

<><><>

“Lady Lips!” Kurt heard Santana summon. “Coming!” He yelled from his office, where he (though he’d never admit it) had recently been hiding. He walked out in what he hoped was a leisurely stroll.

“You need to get it together!” Santana snarled, suddenly pouncing on him. “I may be your friend, but this is ridiculous!” Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Santana.” Santana crossed her arms, raising a brow. “Yeah, okay, asshole. Then why are you being weird now that Elliott’s here?” Kurt glared at her. “I’m-I’m not,” he insisted, standing his guard. “You are. Did you even  _ notice _ how Blaine reacted to being ignored?”

Kurt’s arms fell to his sides, his face going from fake-casual to worried in a heartbeat. “What? Is he okay?” Santana slapped him lightly. “No, Kurt. No he isn’t.”

“Where is he?” He asked as he tried to walk away. Santana grabbed him by the wrist, pulling Kurt back towards her. “Brittany’s watching over him. He’s sleeping.” Kurt nibbled on his lower lip.

“He does that a lot,” he muttered guiltily. “What, sleep?” Santana repeated. “Yeah. He was sleeping earlier when you and I met for lunch. He sleeps when he's cried, or he's felt lonely, or any strong emotion, really. I hadn’t thought about it until now.” Santana nodded, softer than before. “Let Brit talk to him, huh? She might have better luck getting through to him. Sub to sub.” Kurt reluctantly nodded.

“Okay.”

“Now,” she announced, clapping her hands together. “As for Elliott.” Kurt’s guard went back up immediately. “What about him?” He groaned. “Look, I know that you two used to fuck and then you stopped all of a sudden, but you never told me why.”

Kurt recrossed his arms. “He told me he loved me and I...couldn’t handle it,” he huffed, hating how weak he sounded. Santana sighed, rubbing his back sympathetically.

“He was my closest, male,  _ gay _ friend, we could’ve had a wonderful relationship...but he was a Dom. I know I sound close minded, I just...I’ve always wanted that fairytale romance, you know? All that basic Hallmark bullshit…I love it. Dom meets sub, they fall in love and get married in 90 minutes. A touch of the fingertips is as romantic as it gets.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Though, I suppose now all of that just seems like a sorry excuse.”

Santana nodded again. “I can understand the fear in that. When I claimed Dani, I was happy, but something just felt...off.” Kurt understood that. There was so much hope when he was with Elliot, but when the man said those three words, it made Kurt realize that wasn’t what he had wanted. He didn’t want to settle for someone.

“I’m sorry I brought him without warning you. He’s the only person I know that owns a truck with a bed,” she chuckled. Kurt shook his head, joining her cackle. “It’s fine, it's fine. Just please make sure Blaine doesn't talk to him.” Santana agreed. “I'll make sure he helps me carry it up here. But right now you need to talk to Blaine. When you both have calmed down, we can all sit down and eat chinese in a disgustingly domestic fashion.” Santana grinned.

<><><>

Brittany watched the sleeping sub quietly. She felt bad for him; he was bruised pretty badly. “Mhmmm…” he groaned in his sleep. Brittany sat on the bed next to him, petting his curls. “Blainey? Are you awake?” She asked.

Blaine jumped up, the blanket revealing more naked skin. “Y-you’re not Kurt,” he whispered. “No, sweetie. It’s me, Brittany,” she said, soothing him as much as she was able. She pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, aiming to make him more comfortable. Blaine leaned into her somehow calming touch. He squeezed her in an airtight hug. “I’m sorry, please tell him I’m sorry.” Brittany furrowed her eyebrows. “Who?”

“K-kurt...He’s selling me, isn’t he? That’s why you’re here and he’s not.” Brittany held on tighter. What had this poor boy been through? “No, no, no. Sweetie, he cares for you. Kurt wouldn’t do that.”

“He would if he were getting tired of me, which he is. He’s been snappish, not at all like himself. He’s ignoring me. Has been ever since I needed him. I freak him out. I know I’m not like most other subs, I can’t simply take a pill...I  _ have _ to be Dominated. And it’s not fair to put that all on him.” Brittany listened to him, watching the door for a sign of Kurt. She wasn’t equipped to handle this. She was a sub, like him. She could listen and talk, maybe give some advice, but she couldn’t drag him out of this self-deprecating hellhole he was spiraling into.

Thankfully, both of their Doms walked in. Blaine didn’t notice, though, too lost in his own thoughts. “I’m so selfish, forcing this all on him. He’s such a patient person, and Dom. But I don’t know if I can trust him. I’ve learned not to trust Doms.”

Brittany looked at the Doms with pleading eyes. Santana beckoned her out with a head bob, and Kurt took her place on the bed, holding the naked submissive as gently and firmly as he could.

“Blaine, pet. I am so sorry for ignoring you.”

“Sir?” Blaine asked, surprised at Kurt’s sudden arrival.”Yes, it’s me, pet. I’m sorry. I’m not getting rid of you.”

“It’s understandable. I know you’re getting tired of me, Sir,” Blaine whimpered to the Dom. Kurt was already starting to shake his head. “No, Blaine. I promise, that’s not true. I was just a little bitter earlier because I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Blaine pushed. “Of Santana. More specifically of her beautiful, Dom/sub relationship with Brittany.” Blaine peeked up at him.

“W-why, though?” Kurt sighed. “I really want to be able to take care of you, Blaine. And when you wouldn’t open up to me, I thought that...I don’t know what I thought.” Blaine looked back down at his uncovered body and blushed. Kurt took the sub’s chin in hand. “From now on, no hiding, okay? We talk to each other. I’ll be honest with you, but you have to reciprocate. Deal?” Blaine nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Kurt beamed. “Now, get dressed, pet. We’re going to get some much deserved dinner.” Blaine beamed right back. “That sounds wonderful, Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're finally getting somewhere! :D


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind, neither Kurt nor Blaine want to lie, they just keep making up reasons to. While Blaine thinks he's protecting himself by lying, Kurt thinks he's doing what's best for both of them. They both have their own reasons for lying/attempting to lie. They'll be telling each other their truths in due time. ;)

Dinner went swimmingly, and soon Kurt and Blaine were waving their guests away. They had a new mattress in Kurt’s office, and a new rule between them that made things simultaneously easier and much more difficult.

Blaine for one had found it difficult to answer the Dom's rather intrusive questions. He guiltily lied when Kurt had asked him about his family or former owners. Kurt of course saw right through it. "You must be honest with me, pet," he had said, before leaving for the night. Blaine's heart broke at the disappointed glance Kurt gave him he thought Blaine couldn’t see. Blaine barely slept that night, too guilty about unintentionally kicking Kurt out of his own room.

“Sir?” He asked as he stepped into Kurt’s office in the middle of the night. Kurt was hunched over his desk, working, Blaine assumed. On his desk sat a cup of cold tea, scattered pencils, and wadded up balls of paper. “Blaine?” Kurt jumped. “What are you doing up?” Blaine blushed embarrassedly. “I couldn’t sleep. I felt guilty about making you sleep on a borrowed mattress in your office, rather than in your own bed.” Kurt smiled sympathetically. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or maybe some warm milk?” Blaine nodded, “Yes, please.”

Kurt stood up, stretching and leaving very little to Blaine’s imagination. His mouth watered as he felt certain parts of him twitch.  _ “Not now,” _ he muttered. “What was that?” Kurt asked. Blaine blushed furiously. “Nothing important, Sir.” Kurt shook his head. “Honesty? Please, Blaine?” The sub licked his lips. “I was talking to myself, really, Sir.” Kurt looked like he was about to protest again, but softly smiled instead. “Okay. If you’re really trying, I suppose I should put a little more trust in you.” Blaine smiled gratefully.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said, much more seductively than he’d intended. His owner swallowed. “Yeah...You’re welcome, Blaine.”

He put his hand on the small of Blaine’s back, leading the sub out of his office. Blaine shivered.

“Warm milk or tea?” Kurt asked him.

“What?”

“Milk or tea?” Kurt repeated, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

“Oh...um...tea, please.”

Kurt rummaged around in his pantry. He poked his head out after a minute, looking apologetic. “Sorry, all I have is lemon and pomegranate.”

“Can I have lemon, please?” Kurt nodded and put the kettle on the stove. “Sugar? Spice? Anything nice?” The Dom joked, grabbing the sugar for himself. Blaine grinned. “Oh yes, please. Sugar.  _ Lots _ of sugar,” he added, licking his lips. Kurt raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing.

They stared at each other in silence. Blaine took the opportunity to look his Dom over. The man had clearly changed for more casual clothes than the  [ extravagant outfit ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvg9aut5LP1qeds6ko1_r2_500.jpg) he’d had on during dinner. His  [ green, v-neck sweater and plaid sweatpants ](https://uploads.wornontv.net/2015/02/kurts-green-sweater-leather-pocket-plaid-pants.jpg) made him look very underdressed in comparison to the portal to Narnia that was his closet. Though personally, Blaine thought he looked better without so many clothes.

He felt his stomach start to stir again, blood rushing to his cock in a dizzyingly fast way.  The sub boldly took a step forward, causing himself to be pressed against the Dom’s chest. He stared up longingly at him. His eyes lidded and his mouth parted. His hands came to rest on Kurt’s toned chest. “I...I need you, Sir…” he whimpered against the taller man’s neck.

“I know, pet. But remember,” Kurt answered, taking Blaine’s hands off his chest. “No sex.”

Blaine loured at the response he got. Though (Ignoring their new rule) he said nothing, too afraid to seem too needy for his Dom, despite the fact he still hadn’t been properly Dominated. Orders were a good start, being naked even better, but he was a  _ sex _ slave. He needed  _ sex. _ That was the one thing Kurt had still failed to acknowledge.

“Fine then,” he huffed as he sat down. He was aiming to look pissed off, though he only succeeded in looking extremely blue-balled. Kurt would have laughed if not for the seriousness of their situation. “How about instead, I give you some casual orders,” he suggested, trying to be polite. Blaine pouted yet agreed with another huff. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

Kurt offered him a sympathetic look, pulling the sub in his arms so his back was pressed against the Dom’s chest, similar to the way they had slept together during their L.A. visit. Blaine pushed his ass back against the Dom, moaning ever so quietly. Kurt pushed him away slowly. “Sorry, no...” he said. “I didn’t mean to lead you on. I just wanted to comfort you like when we visited Mercedes.” Blaine nodded. “Thanks for trying, Sir.”

Kurt smiled. But then a beautiful, intimidating expression overtook his face. Blaine felt his knees start to quiver. “Master?” he purred coyly.

Kurt laughed. It was a deep rumble that started in his throat, far different from his usual angelic lilt. Though not in the bad way, per se. Blaine felt goosebumps rise on his skin. “Yes, pet?” Blaine opened his mouth but no sound came out. Kurt merely smirked. “Let’s start with the simple stuff, shall we?” Blaine nodded mutely. “Words, pet,” he commanded.

“Yes, Master. Anything, Master.” Kurt held the sub’s face in his hand, stroking Blaine’s cheek lovingly. “Good boy,” he told him.

The praise was minimal, though Blaine still stood a little taller because of it. It was, after all, the first time Blaine had had anything remotely close to a reward since Kurt bought him. A reward made a sub happy and it made them feel complete. Subs needed a Master to be complete, and some subs constantly needed their masters to keep them healthy. Blaine was one of those subs.

“First, I want you to go to my office, and set the alarm. I have to go to work tomorrow and I need to wake up at 6:00.”

Blaine merely scowled. “Is that it?”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Are you talking back to me, pet?”

Blaine’s eyes found their way to the ground and his hands clasped behind his back. “No, Sir.”

“Good. Now, do as you were told.”

Blaine obeyed, thanking his Dom and leaving to  _ set an alarm clock. _ The former-slave thought it was a ridiculous order...and it  _ was. _ But Kurt was trying. And that’s what mattered.

Checking the alarm had indeed been set, he returned to his Dom. The kettle was whistling, yet Kurt paid it no mind. “Are you going to get that, Sir?” Blaine asked. Kurt made a small hum. “No. You will.” Blaine got the message; He turned the stove off and poured each of their respected teas.

“Lastly, you’re going to drink your tea and go to bed.” Blaine internally groaned. He couldn’t help it, he felt deprived, and this wasn’t just something he could sleep off. “Yes, Sir,” he grumbled at last, walking to his room with his tea.

<><><>

Kurt sighed. Giving Blaine simple, pointless orders was a bad idea on his part. He knew that Blaine needed something stronger. Blaine’s submissiveness ran stronger and deeper than most subs because of his inherent nature and years of emotional neglect and abuse from former Doms. While most submissives only feared displeasing their Dom, Blaine (and other slaves) lived with the fear of displeasing any Dom. He struggled to resist submitting to every Dominant who gave him a command, making him an easy target for the crueler Doms.

Kurt shook his head, trying to clear his mind before going to bed. He had to wake up early tomorrow, after all. “Ugh…” he groaned as he recalled the stack of papers that had littered his desk the last time he’d seen it.

He tossed and turned all night, only managing to fall asleep at 4 am, not nearly enough time to sleep for a full day of meetings and sketches and those arrogant fucking bitches he’d have to talk to.

The alarm bitched at him at 6 am, as intended. Kurt took a little extra time waking up than most mornings. Or rather, what he thought was only a little extra time, was actually  _ an hour and a half. _

“Shti! Shit! Shit!” Kurt yelled, running around his apartment. His closet was still in his room with Blaine so all of his clothes were in that room as well. He changed in front of Blaine’s sleeping body, too rushed to worry about the sub possibly seeing him. Luckily for him he had picked  [ his work outfit ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b9/98/90/b9989053fe67d6ca0164dc6727dbdc46.jpg) out beforehand.

Thankfully for him, the curly haired man woke up after he was already dressed. “Sir?” he mumbled sleepily. “Whasgoinon?” He asked through a half yawn. Kurt grabbed a bagel and the extra cup of coffee he always kept in the fridge.

“I’m late for work!” He yelled from his place in the kitchen.

Blaine sat up at once. “Can I help you, Sir?” He asked, stumbling out of bed. “No thank you, Blaine. The best thing you can do to help me right now is go back to bed,” he told the sub honestly. Blaine reluctantly nodded and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. “Be ready when I come home, please! I’m finally taking you shopping after work!” Kurt yelled once more over his shoulder, right before slamming the door shut.

He raced out to his  [ black Navigator, ](https://www.allanvigilford.net/inventoryphotos/5497/5lmjj2tt8lel09122/sp/4.jpg?height=400) which he bought only because it reminded him so much of the one he’d had in high school. When he first arrived in New York the thought of a vehicle seemed preposterous. Then after one too many Uber harassings, subway gropings, and taxi mishaps, he realized he wanted his own mode of transportation. He usually walked everywhere, so he didn’t use it often, except for situations like this, wherein he was  _ extremely _ late.

He fished his phone from out of his pocket, dialing Isabelle so she knew he was still coming.  _ “Kurt!” _ She yelled through the phone.  _ “Where are you!?” _ Kurt winced at the urgent tone of her voice. “I know, I know, and I am so sorry, Isabelle,” he said.

_ “Fuck me to hell!” _ She groaned, eloquent as always. “I’m on my way right now,” Kurt insisted.  _ “You better be, Kurt! This is the most important week for Vogue in a long time!” _

“I know-”

_ “We have to make this merge work!” _

“I know!” Kurt growled.

She sighed deeply, the phone  _ almost _ capturing the annoyance in her voice.  _ “Alright...Just get here as soon as you can. Saxlo’s owner won’t be here until Friday’s business party, so we can catch you up.” _ Kurt nodded, forgetting Isabelle couldn’t see him for a moment. “Thanks, Izzy. You’re a goddess.” Isabelle chuckled.  _ “I know I am. Now, hurry up!” _

<><><>

Blaine didn’t know what to do. He had slept in for as long as he could force his body to, not wanting to face the inevitable anxiety that comes with being alone in a Dom’s home. Kurt had left him all alone. Without any orders. Or tasks. Not even an  _ ‘If you want to, do this’ _ type of thing. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

So now Blaine was bored out of his mind.

He rummaged through the fridge, but the only things he could find were ingredients, and he’d already established his kitchen  _ ‘talent’. _

He flipped through the channels on Kurt’s TV. The only thing he found that interested him was Once Upon A Time. He knew it was cheesy and the plot lines were confusing, but it was a show that he could get lost in. It was something that could make him forget his own problems. Plus, Killain Jones was hot. Colin O'Donoghue was quite possibly the only Dom Blaine had ever had a celebrity crush on.

And to make matters worse, he was horny as hell. The earlier night’s orders were too mundane for someone with as high a submissive drive as him. His cock was warm, and he’d had a semi for at least an hour. It was starting to really hurt.

But he didn’t know how to take care of it. He couldn’t do it himself, no slave could - former or not. He had to have a Dom.  _ His _ Dom. He needed to be pushed to the very edge, and told either to or not to cum. He needed to not have a choice. He needed Kurt.

<><><>

As Kurt pulled into his driveway there was only one thing on his mind: Blaine.

He’d been worried about the sub all day. He had even been snapped at by Isabelle about focusing. That had never once happened before. In fact, he was usually the one telling Isabelle to concentrate. And it infuriated him to no end when Isabelle had cackled at him jumping in surprise. It wasn’t  _ his _ fault that intern had screamed, and whether it was simply out of excitement wasn’t a concern of his at the time.

He’d been mumbling about it the whole ride home, telling himself that his co-owner would have to let the incident go eventually, despite knowing that she’d hold it over his head for as long as she was able. He would have screamed when he dropped his keys. Everything about today had been horrible.

He was so ready to go shopping. It usually took the edge off. He just hoped it would have the same effect with Blaine there, too.

When he finally pulled the door open and walked in, he was met with a picture that could not have worsened his situation any more. There, in the middle of the hallway, naked on his knees thrusting into his fist and crying in frustration, was Blaine.

“Blaine!?” Kurt squeaked in surprise. He was definitely not in the right headspace to take care of this type of situation. “MASTER!” Blaine moaned obscenely loudly. Kurt closed the door behind him, careful to make sure the neighbors didn’t hear the desperate former-slave. “MASTER, PLEASE! I NEED-”

Kurt clapped a hand over the sub’s mouth. “Stop yelling,” he said, careful to be extremely calm about it. Blaine nodded shakily; Kurt removed his hand.

“Master…” Blaine whimpered.

Kurt took a moment to take him all in. His eyes were glazed over, his mouth was drooling, and his cock was on full display. He was completely naked again. Although he clearly wasn’t ashamed of his body, he had guilt written on his face.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked slowly. Blaine shook his head. “No, no you need to tell me. I can’t tell you because then I won’t be following your orders.” Kurt nodded. He wasn’t going to be able to wiggle his way out of this one. “Keep thrusting,” he said. He didn’t know what else he  _ could _ say. Blaine obviously needed release. And Kurt knew that he’d gone for...for…

“How long has it been since you last came, pet?”

“N-nine…” he exhaled. Kurt’s eyebrows knitted together. “Nine what, pet?” He asked, absently running his hands through Blaine’s ebony curls. “Nine...m-months,” he panted. Kurt had to pull his hand back because he was suddenly very overwhelmed. It was too much to have known that Blaine had suffered and gone without for months.

“Why haven’t you taken care of it yourself, pet? I don’t mind.” Blaine whimpered, and god if that didn’t make Kurt even sadder.

“I can’t…not without a Dominant to tell me to. My past owners liked to leave me depraved. It was fine, until I realized that it was nearly impossible to cum without any orders.” His voice hitched between every other word. He was close, Kurt could tell. “So if I were to simply touch you, at my command you’d release?” He mused. Blaine’s tongue fell out in a wretched way. “Yes, Master!” He begged. His hand was moving fast, almost a blur. His dick was leaking precome like it was his life source.

Kurt was simultaneously amazed and afraid. He was amazed because Blaine was unlike any sub he’d ever seen. Even in such a torturous state, he was mesmerizing and graceful and beautiful. But he was also afraid because he realized just how much he liked having control over him. Blaine was extremely sensitive, which gave Kurt far more power than he felt manageable. “Master! Please! Now!? I’m ready now!” Kurt licked his lips, a motion that Blaine watched closely.

“Cum,” the Dom whispered at last, resting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders so he could feel the tension leave him. Thick ropes of hot, sticky cum erupted from his cock.

It was breathtaking.

Blaine’s eyes drooped closed. “How would you like me to thank you, Master?” he mumbled sleepily, yet committedly. Kurt smiled sadly. 

_ This shouldn’t have happened. _

“I’m fine, pet, thank you. You did such a good job. You’re such a good sub.” Blaine preened sleepily at the praise. “You’re welcome, Master…” he said, drifting off. Kurt petted him in his sleep. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

He still didn’t know what he would say, but he figured that Blaine wouldn’t bring it up himself. And if Blaine  _ were _ to bring it up...he’d deny everything and tell him it was a dream. He didn’t  _ want _ to lie to the sub, per se, but he had to.

Everything had happened too fast. And everything was too much. He wouldn’t be able to look Blaine in the eye and deny everything, but fuck if he wouldn’t try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to add a therapist to this story as well. You think it could be an original character or Emma or someone else...? I've kinda been leaning towards Jan or Liz. If you don't remember Jan and Liz were the old lesbian couple that got engaged when Blaine was looking for his proposal ring. I really liked those characters but I don't quite know how to include them, or if I should at all. What do you think?


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Kurt was avoiding Blaine. That much was clear. He didn’t want to answer any questions about what had happened earlier. He wanted to do what was best for Blaine. For  _ both _ of them

_ …But _ Blaine was following him like a lost puppy, and he surprised Kurt by continuously bringing it up himself.

“Sir?” Blaine asked through his office door.  _ “Speak of the devil,” _ Kurt muttered. “I’d like to ask you about our…activity?”

“Blaine, I already told you. It was just a dream. It had to be.” He heard a broken cry from the other side. “It wasn’t, though, Sir...I know what a dream feels like and that wasn’t it. Please...Did I do something wrong?…Am  _ I _ wrong…?” Kurt heard a thump and saw Blaine's shadow slump in front of his door. “I’m sorry for whatever I did to disappoint you, Sir.” Blaine curled up into the floor, head in his hands and knees pulled against his chest.

Kurt pulled the door open, causing Blaine to fall at his feet. He looked down at Blaine, his lips set in a thin, unreadable line. The sub in turn peered up at him meekly.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Blaine?”

Blaine gulped. “Like what?”

“Like you’re both in awe and afraid of me…?” Blaine blushed. “It’s a  _ good _ afraid, Master…” he whispered to him as he folded his legs under him, kneeling in front of Kurt and leering up at him not-so-innocently. “Blaine, we went over this. You had another dream, I’m not mad.” Blaine’s eyes went dark and murky. “N-no, Master,” he told him carefully, breathing hard and avoiding Kurt’s steel blue eyes.

_ “Excuse me?” _ Kurt asked in surprise. Blaine had never disagreed with him as a Master, and certainly not as bluntly as that. “I-it wasn’t a d-dream, M-master. I’m sure of i-it,” he said with a little more confidence the second time. Kurt stood in front of him, his arms crossed sternly. “Are you now?” Blaine nodded.

The sub moved closer to Kurt, who only backed away in time. “Master?” he whimpered. He looked close to tears. “Please. Tell me what I did wrong? Should I have done something for you?” Kurt shook his head. “No. Blaine. Quit doing this. We’re going in circles. It’s a rudimentary fucking cycle and I am getting tired of it,” he hissed. Blaine stumbled backwards at Kurt’s sudden anger, falling on his hands. “Get ready. We’re going shopping in a little while.” Blaine nodded shakily. “Yes, Master,” he whispered as he crawled away.

Kurt rubbed his eyes. “Why does he need  _ me _ ? Any other Dom could do this. They could get him to open up, trust them, and maybe even make love.” He groaned, remembering Blaine’s fear filled face when Kurt snapped at the former-slave. “They’d at least not scare him when they gave orders.” he cursed himself as he plopped down into his chair. “Am I really  _ that _ terrifying?” Kurt muttered.

He forced his body to stand up and shower. They were going shopping, maybe that wouldn’t be so stressful.

<><><>

“Blaine!” The Dom called, stepping out of the shower and loosely wrapping a towel around his waist. He had been so distracted by the sub he’d forgotten to grab his clothes, which were still in the suitcases in the main room.

“Yes, Sir?” Blaine said as he popped into the room. His eyes went dark with desire at Kurt’s alluring look. Water was dripping out of his hair and onto his skin, beading across and sliding down the long cascade of toned, milky skin. He licked his lips and swallowed. “W-what can I do for you, Sir?” He said, though he was mostly distracted.

“Could you grab me some clothes, please?” Blaine nodded, bowed his head, and scampered off with a mumbled  _ ‘Yes, Sir.’ _ Kurt nibbled on his bottom lip, his guilt about losing his cool in front of the sub was starting to get to him. “Here you are, Sir,” Blaine said as he handed the Dom his clothes. “W-will that be all?”

Kurt looked him up and down. Blaine had gotten ready as he’d been told. Kurt didn’t recognize the outfit, but he thought that Blaine looked ~~cute~~ fine in his  [ vest. ](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/e3/32/58/e33258cf0dfd58502f80034d4050834d--sweater-vests-sweaters.jpg)

“Where did you find your clothes?” He asked, starting to dress himself. Blaine stared without answering, watching Kurt as he  _ almost _ dropped his towel. “Can you please turn around, Blaine?” He asked the sub. Blaine blushed and whirled around in his spot, nearly tripping on the bath towel.

“I-I..um...found them in the back of your closet. I hope that’s okay, Sir,” he said. His voice was shaky and it made Kurt’s chest tight with guilt. “That’s alright, Blaine.” Kurt zipped up his pants in the otherwise awkward silence. He watched as Blaine stood perfectly still, the picture of a beautiful submissive that he didn’t deserve; a beautiful submissive who had been hurt in so many wrong ways and needed someone better-equipped for him.

“Blaine? You can turn around now,” he told him, buttoning the last button on his clean, white shirt. Blaine did so with a small smile. He looked up at the taller man, his eyes big and glossy, eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” Blaine blinked. “For what, Sir?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “For snapping at you. It was rude of me and I apologize.”

Blaine smiled shyly. “It was alright, Sir. I’ve had so little Domination that even though it hurt a little, it did more good than bad. You gave me clear, precise orders, and it made my mind clearer.”

“What about earlier? Do you still think it was more than a dream?” Kurt asked the sub, forcing his expression to stay neutral.

His smile fell. “No, Sir. I’m still quite sure that it wasn’t a dream. But I also understand now that you don’t want to talk about our...incident. I know that you don’t want me, I’ll be okay.” Although he’d seemed fine in the beginning of his speech, his face had darkened towards the end. His smile was more shaky than before, his eyes murky and confused. It was as if he’d lied about being okay. Because he did.

“Blaine I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to tell me the truth.”

Blaine nodded, “Yes, Sir.”

“Are you okay?”

Blaine blanched. “Please, Sir, don’t put me in a position like this. I will be okay if that’s what you - my Dom - want. I-I want what Master wants,” he told him, lowering his head and folding his hands behind his back.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, lifting Blaine’s chin with his fingers. “ _ Please _ stop doing this. You’re allowed to be your own person, with your own thoughts and opinions, you don’t have to hide that from me.” Blaine swallowed. “I…”

“Yes?”

“I want whatever  _ you _ want. You are my Master, and I  _ will _ do whatever I need to do in order to make  _ you _ happy.”

Kurt swallowed. He didn’t know the proper way to react to this.  _ He _ needed help.

“Okay. For now, that’s okay.” Blaine looked up at him like he was a superhero. “Thank you, Sir. I wasn’t sure if you’d understand.”

_ I  _ _ don’t _ _ understand, _ Kurt thought darkly.

“Of course, pet. Now,” he clapped his hands, forcing a smile on his face in the thick tension of their conversation. “Shopping!”

<><><>

“Ooh, Blaine! This would look perfect on you!” Kurt said, beaming at the  [ shirt ](https://www.aeropostale.com/dw/image/v2/BBSG_PRD/on/demandware.static/-/Sites-master-catalog-aeropostale/default/dwc1c063cc/62375845_058_main.jpg?sw=2000&sh=2000&sm=fit&sfrm=jpg) he was holding up. He seemed completely oblivious to how uncomfortable his sub was. There were just so many, high standard, beautiful people here. “Whatever you say, Sir,” he mumbled anxiously. He and his stupid vest stuck out like a sore thumb in the Aeropostale store.

He knew logically that they were too wrapped in their own lives to care about him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel like crawling into a hole whenever a saleswoman looked him up and down like he was a disgusting peasant.

She walked up to Kurt with her nose in the air and her feet squished into  [ pointy, witch-like shoes. ](https://www.rosashoes.com/resources/pages/image4/004728/long-pointed-toe-ultra-high-stilettos-by-rosa-shoes-copy.jpg) “Can I help you with anything, Sir? And can I take...” she paused as she gestured with a very unsubtle pointing finger. “-that  _ slave _ outside so  _ it _ doesn’t get anything dirty?”

Blaine squirmed under her critical eye. He didn’t know how she knew. She could probably smell his patheticness on him, though. His eyes locked onto the floor, force of habit, he supposed.

Kurt’s face contorted with anger, but he soon smiled. “You  _ can _ help us, actually. Could you please lead us to the dressing rooms?” Kurt, of course, was in his comfort zone, an expensive clothing store with quick, snappy sales people that were so similar to his Domineering self. “And he will be joining me,” Kurt added with a flip of his head.

The sales woman stiffened, but agreed curtly. “If  _ it _ must,” she grumbled.

Blaine hid his now shaking hands behind his back, following Kurt into the tightly enclosed room. “Are you okay?” Kurt asked him as he soothingly rubbed his arms. “Y-yes, Sir,” Blaine said, cursing the stutter in his voice.

“Honesty, Blaine.”

The Dom didn’t understand. It was a lot harder for Blaine to open up he realized. “It’s fine…” he barely said; the Dom’s commands were stronger than he’d thought. “But I don’t like this, Sir…” he whispered.  _ Curse the power of Dominants, _ Blaine thought.

“Do you want to go home?”

“No! No, I don’t want to disappoint you,” he begged, being too honest. Kurt’s Dominating stare was once again too much for him to resist.

“You won’t disappoint me by feeling uncomfortable, pet. I admit, I wanted to bond over clothes with you, but your well-being is more important than that.”

Blaine shook his head maniacally, trying to overcome Kurt’s Dominating influence on him. He really wanted to lie, but his order not to was messing with his head. Being told not to lie wasn’t good enough, he needed to know he had a reason to trust Kurt.

“Blaine, calm down,” Kurt urged, hugging Blaine to his chest. “I think we need to get some help…” he whispered.

Blaine breathed in the Dom’s scent, nosing further into Kurt’s neck. “Whadoyumean, Mmmaster?” he slurred, not really paying any attention to anything aside from the Dom that was holding him. The Dom that smelled so enticing. So strong. So wonderful to tie him down and break his every will.

“I mean a therapist.”

Blaine pushed the Dom away, falling to the floor.  _ “What?” _ Kurt stood up, offering Blaine a hand to which he rejected. Blaine jumped up off the floor and dusted himself off.

“I said a therapist.”

Blaine scowled. “I don’t need a  _ shrink, _ Sir.” Kurt raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Oh, really?” He asked rhetorically. Blaine crossed his arms as well, mocking his Dom. “Yes, really. If you must know, I am  _ perfectly _ fine, Sir.”

Kurt’s arms dropped in frustration. “We’re going in circles, Blaine. It’s the same every time: You don’t trust me, then get horny and climb all over me-”

“I-I don’t  _ climb _ you,” Blaine blushed.

Kurt snorted. “Okay fine, but it’s the same difference. I push you away, give you some orders that don’t really help except for an hour or two, and wait for you to come back. It’s not healthy. We need help.” Blaine scowled at him. “Like what,  _ Sir? _ Fucking couple’s therapy?” He yelled _. _

“Is there a problem?” A familiar snooty voice asked from the other side of the dressing room wall.

Before Kurt could get a word out, Blaine answered her himself. “No,  _ Ma’am _ there is not.” Blaine smirked at Kurt’s rage-filled face. He knew not to call other Doms Sir or Ma’am. Kurt was different from most Doms in that aspect. He didn’t want his subs to call other Doms anything but Mister or Miss. Blaine  _ knew _ that.

_ “What is your problem?” _ Kurt hissed.

Blaine’s eyes widened, taken aback. Surely his Dom knew not to use words like that so loosely. “I...I don’t know, Sir...I’m sorry…” he whispered, remembering his fear.

Kurt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Blaine. Your mood swings, your sudden changes in demeanor, the angry man behind the former-slave. You have a right to be angry, Blaine. You have a right to all of your feelings, including the negative ones. And squashing those feelings down because it’s what you think  _ I _ want, that’s not healthy.”

“So? I don’t need to be healthy.”

Kurt stared at him.  _ “What the fuck does that mean?” _ He hissed in horror.

Blaine stiffened, wrapping his arms around himself defensively. “You shouldn’t have saved me,” he choked out. “I...I’m a mess. I don’t know what to do, how to act, I don’t even know what to say. You’re right. This is just a horrible cycle. I just need to disappear. I-”

“Oh, Blaine.” Kurt whispered. This was going too far. He couldn’t possibly be talking about  _ that _ \--no, no, he couldn’t be. “I’m going to help you. We’re going to get help.” He held Blaine in his arms in the dressing room. “We’ll be okay,” he whispered. “We’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta be honest, this story is getting away from me here...sorry if some things don't add up. :I


	16. Chapter Sixteen

As soon as Kurt walked into the pale pink building, he got a whiff of vanilla and jasmine invading his nostrils. He looked around, taking in the scene before him. There was an old man slouched in a chair, and what looked to be a 20-30 year old couple in the corner who looked just as reluctant as Blaine.

Blaine himself had been muttering the whole time, whining about how pointless this all was, but Kurt had just ignored the sub. He knew that they needed this. He walked up to the desk, where a bored looking teenager sat, chewing gum and scrolling on her phone.

“Hello? I scheduled an appointment with-” he looked down at the card he printed off the internet. “Mrs. Janet and Mrs. Elizabeth? It’s urgent, please,” he said. The teenage secretary popped her gum, disturbing the soothing quiet of the office. “Name,” she barked. Kurt sucked in a breath through his teeth. He was determined to stay calm. “Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.” She tapped  [ her long nails ](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d6/d9/8f/d6d98fc844f2bd2a75187b13d8439d80.jpg) on the keyboard loudly, looking exceedingly bored. “They’re with someone at the moment, but if you and your submissive can take a seat they’ll be out soon enough.” He nodded, “Thank you.”

He squeezed Blaine’s hand reassuringly, tugging the sub along to the chairs in the waiting room. “Why are we here, Sir?” he whined.

“Blaine, please. We went over this.”

“But, Sir, I don’t need this."

Kurt sighed, running the hand that wasn’t holding onto Blaine’s through his hair. “Well maybe  _ I _ need this,” he huffed. Blaine looked at him, his face pleading despite his silence. “Yes, Sir…” he muttered.

A young sub and Dom walked out of a room, two older women behind them, having a hushed conversation that left happy tears on each of their faces. “Thank you, Mrs. Jan. A-and you as well, Mrs. Liz. I-I think you just might have s-saved our marriage.”

Kurt heard Blaine huff and mutter something indecipherable under his breath. And when he turned to look at the sub, he was rolling his hazel eyes in - what Kurt assumed to be - annoyment. “What?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow amusedly. “Therapy doesn’t do shit,” came the cold response. “ _ Talking _ isn’t going to solve anything.”

“What do you mean? Therapy helps a lot of people.” Blaine snorted. “No, it doesn’t.” Kurt watched his face contort with anger, jealousy, sadness, longing, and who knows what else. Blaine was far too complicated to understand with a few random face-reading-tacts off soccer mom blogs.

Blaine noticed him leering and started to squirm in his seat. “Sir, y-you’re staring,” he mumbled.

Before Kurt could respond, the secretary was barking at them. “They’re ready for you,” she told them. “Just go into that room right there,” she pointed one long finger at the room that the women had gone back into; where the couple had come out. “Thank you,” Kurt said, standing up. Blaine was right behind him as they walked into the room.

[ Their office ](https://static.dezeen.com/uploads/2013/10/dezeen_Livsrum-Cancer-Counselling-Centre-by-EFFEKT_ss_10.jpg) was tastefully decorated, grays and whites playing onto each other perfectly. “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you two, I’m  [ Jan and this is Liz ](https://cdn1.thr.com/sites/default/files/2013/05/patty_duke_glee_a_l.jpg) .” The women each held out their hands to Kurt. He shook it, Blaine following suit. “Why don’t you two have a seat,” she offered.

The Domme-- Jan, according to her name tag --had round glasses and white hair cut into a pleasant pixie cut. Her sub-- Liz --had pretty blonde hair swept up off her face and a gorgeous watch on her wrist. They each had matching wedding bands on their finger, as well as matching chairs in their office.

They sat down, holding hands in between themselves on the clean, white chairs. Kurt and Blaine settled themselves on the couch, both squished into opposite ends as they were desperate to avoid any more awkward touches. Both Jan and Liz noticed this. The women swapped a look. “So, we were told that this is urgent?” Liz questioned.

Kurt nodded, but Blaine merely rolled his eyes. “It really isn’t…” he mumbled.

“And why do you think that…?” Jan asked, surprising him. “Blaine,” the sub supplied, his cheeks pink. “Blaine Anderson. And I...um...nevermind...it’s nothing important.” Kurt sighed. Jan paid him no mind, her Domme instincts telling her to focus on the submissive. “Why isn’t it important, Blaine?” Blaine huffed, crossing his arms. “Isn’t this supposed to only be an interview? So you know whether or not we’re  _ ‘compatible’ _ with you?” He asked, holding his hands up in air quotes when he said  _ compatible. _

“Yes, I suppose it’s only that. But I think we’d like to get to know you, Blaine,” Liz said, jumping in. She knew personally how dark the thought process of subs could get when they weren’t paid enough attention to. “Oh, really?” Blaine asked with a triangular brow arched suspiciously. “Well, of course.” She answered, undeterred by his unwillingness to cooperate.

“And what about you?” Jan asked her fellow Dom. “Kurt Hummel,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Kurt. But you didn’t answer my question.” Jan chastised. “I do actually think we need this. He mentioned  _ suicide _ .” Kurt hissed the word in horror. “No, I didn’t,  _ Sir, _ ” the sub snapped. Kurt glowered at him. Blaine shrunk down into the cushions.

“Blaine?” Liz asked, she was growing more and more concerned for the sub. Was this Dom abusive? Or was it maybe a past Dom that made him so afraid? Jan had a similar look on her face, showing both her concern and offense. “Kurt, can I talk to you outside, please?” Jan asked, but the tone of her voice showed there was no room for argument. Kurt, caught off guard, stood up and followed her out immediately.

“Did something happen to Blaine in the past? Did you...do something to hurt him?” Kurt looked appalled. “I would  _ never _ do that. To  _ anyone. _ ” Jan looked straight into his stormy eyes. They were gray and blue and full of conflict.

“...Okay. I believe you, but what  _ did _ happen? Blaine isn’t  _ that _ uncomfortable with you for no reason.” Kurt sighed, running his hands through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time that day. “He used to be a slave. He was raped, abused, used, humiliated, hurt, and fuck knows what else. He’s been...confused, as of late. He has trust issues and isn’t taking well to being stuck with a Dom who won’t do the same as what he’s grown used to.” She narrowed her eyes. “I know that I’m not perfect either. I have a short fuse and I’m not always patient, that’s why we’re here. For help.”

Jan nodded in understanding. “Liz was a slave, too, actually.” Kurt snapped his head up so fast he could’ve gotten whiplash. “What?”

“Yeah. Back in the not-so-good-ol-days, only men could buy women and vice versa. I had to lie about my relationship with her. I actually had to get one of my friends to buy her. Paul. He was nice, never said a word to the government about my love for Elizabeth.”

The silence between them seemed to stretch infinitely.

“...Is it always going to feel like this?” He finally blurted, face looking concerned. She looked up at him. “Like I’m...lost when he’s not with me, but everytime he  _ is _ with me I feel like my head just might explode? Like I can’t be there for him despite all my trying to be? Or something…?”

She smiled softly. “You’ll figure this out, we’ll help you.” He brightened immediately. “So does that mean that you’ll help us?”

“In a way…” she trailed off.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Couples therapy won’t be good for you two, I can see how uncomfortable you and Blaine are with each other at the moment. He’s not going to share anything if he thinks he’s going to be punished for saying the wrong thing. Later on we’ll bring both of you back. But for now Liz and I will separate you two for our sessions. It won’t be too long. One hour. Once a week.”

Kurt nodded slowly. “Alright. So will I be with you, or your sub?” She shook her head. “You have to understand, it’s company policy that unfamiliar Doms not be left alone with our subs. You seem like a kind man, but for all I know it’s just an act.” Kurt offered her a sad smile. “Of course. I can understand that. You never know which Doms will take advantage of a sub, claimed or not.” Jan mirrored his sad smile, leading the male Dom back into the office, where Blaine had clearly been talking to Liz.

<><><>

“So Blaine? How do  _ you _ feel about everything? About Kurt?” Liz asked, getting up to sit next to him on the couch once Jan had left with Kurt. He stiffened. “Horny,” he answered bluntly, hoping to startle her. She chuckled, not pausing in the least. “I know the feeling.” He stared at her in shock. “Um...what?”

“I know how you feel. I mean, when Jan is-”

“Okay! Okay! Please stop!” He rushed to stop her, a dark red blush staining his cheeks. His answer was meant to scare her off, not make her share her sexual exploits. She laughed again. “Oh, honey, you’re too easy!” She cackled.

Blaine glared at her.  _ She was making fun of him. _ Although he was used to it coming from Doms, this woman was a fellow sub, she was no better than him and therefore had no right to mock him.

“But really, how do you feel? You know, above your waist?”

“Fine.” He scooted even further against the arm of the couch, pressing himself away from her. “You’re kinda skittish, aren’t you?” She mused. He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine,” he persisted. “Why?” He looked closely at the older woman. She was so hopeful about him.

“Why am I fine?” He asked, confused. “Why are you so skittish?” He exhaled harshly through his nose. “I was a slave, will you leave me alone now?” He huffed, crossing his arms. She chuckled. “Why is that funny to you?” He snarled. She stopped laughly, smiling softly at him. “It’s not, but you’re kinda cute. You remind me of a puppy,” she grinned. He blinked. “A puppy?”

“Yeah, like um...here-” she pulled out her phone and showed him the screen.  [ “See!” ](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4a/1d/64/4a1d64436e37df9c8d3cdf0335b18831.jpg) she cackled. “Do you really not think that this looks like you?” He shook his head. “I tell you I used to be a slave and you show me a picture of a  _ dog? _ ”

“Well, how does that make you feel?” She nudged.

He looked away. “Bad, I guess…” he mumbled. “Ignored. Rejected. Hurt.” She put her hand on his knee, slowly to give him time to pull away. Miraculously, he didn’t.

“I know how you feel.” She told him carefully. “Sure you do,” he scoffed. “I do. I was a slave when I was younger; when the government was even worse than it is now.” He stared at her in shock. “Really?” She nodded. “See, we have more in common than you may think,” she nudged his shoulder playfully. “Even though I have more than a few years on you,” Liz laughed. Blaine let out a chuckle of his own for the first time that day.

“Th-Thanks…”

“For what, honey?” Liz asked. Blaine rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “F-for sharing that. I know that it’s your job and all...but I also know how hard it can be to relive all that shit…”

“Is that how it feels for you? Is Kurt making you relieve everything? Is he hurting you?” Blaine stumbled down off the couch, startled. “No! No, never!” He exclaimed. “Kurt isn’t like that. He’s...He’s kind.” She looked down at him on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, choosing to stand and cross his arms rather than sit. “Then why don’t you trust him?”

Before Blaine could have time to answer, Kurt and Jan popped their heads back into the room. “Are we interrupting, or can we come back in now?” Jan asked, smiling so they knew she was just being playful.

Liz looked up at Blaine from her spot on the couch. “Blaine? Your call, honey.” Blaine swallowed, looking back and forth between the women and his Dom. “It’s fine. We..uh..we just finished, Miss Jan.”

“Oh. Okay, well, if you’re sure, sweetie. And please, call me Jan.” Blaine nodded, looking away when Kurt followed in behind her. “We’ve worked out a basic schedule, we just need to go over everything so we can be sure that it works with everyone’s schedules. Let’s say, an hour every Tuesday?”

Kurt nodded. “Do you think that’s alright with you, Blaine?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do during the day,” he muttered, nodding.

Jan and Liz swapped yet another look.  _ This was going to be difficult. _


End file.
